My Platonic Reasons
by Hese Solstis
Summary: Rumour has it that resident doctor, Ichigo Kurosaki and best friend/authoress/heiress, Rukia Kuchiki are lovers. Rumour has it they're platonic best friends. The truth? The general populace is just going to have to squint harder to figure 'that' one out.
1. Prologue: My Platonic Reasons

**My Platonic Reasons**

XXX

**Platonic love** is a chaste and strong type of love that is non-sexual (Example, a best friend). The term "platonic love" can also be referred to as a secret love or an unrequited love.

_**Amor platonicus**_ was coined as early as the 15th century by the Florentine scholar Marsilio Ficino. Platonic love in this original sense of the term is examined in Plato's dialogue the _Symposium_, which has as its topic the subject of love or Eros generally.

Of particular importance there are the ideas attributed to the prophetess Diotima, which present love as a means of ascent to contemplation of the divine.

For Diotima, and for Plato generally, the most correct use of love of other human beings is to direct one's mind to love of divinity. In short, with genuine platonic love, the beautiful or lovely other person inspires the mind and the soul and directs one's attention to spiritual things.

One proceeds from recognition of the beauty of another to appreciation of beauty as it exists apart from any individual, to consideration of divinity, the source of beauty, to love of divinity.

XXX

A **soul mate** is someone you have a very deep connection. It is not always easy explained. It is a meeting of mind, heart, body and soul on the highest of levels. Communication is at its easiest, as they understand you perfectly, and accept you completely with no judgments.

_It was said that once; Man, was a creature so mighty and magnificent that no feat was impossible to achieve. He had two heads, four arms and four legs; and his power great._

_Zeus, the Gods who grew wary of men however, could not find it within themselves to let men simply exist to challenge their own existence and power that only Gods wield. And so, men were split into two complete halves. Both with only one head, two arms and two legs; but yet these halves mourned the loss of their twin. _

_A deep tug of emotional bond that transcends everything else held the halves in place as they began their search for each other. Henceforth, men shall wander the plains, wide and open; in search of their other halves as to which the soul may finally be complete and whole._

...

...

[Primeval man] could walk upright as men now do, backwards or forwards as he pleased, and he could also roll over and over at a great pace, turning on his four hands and four feet, eight in all, like tumblers going over and over with their legs in the air; this was when he wanted to run fast …

Terrible was their might and strength, and the thoughts of their hearts were great, and they made an attack upon the gods ... Doubt reigned in the celestial councils.

Should they kill them and annihilate the race with thunderbolts, as they had done the giants, then there would be an end of the sacrifices and worship which men offered to them; but, on the other hand, the gods could not suffer their insolence to be unrestrained.

At last, after a good deal of reflection, Zeus discovered a way. He said: 'I have a plan which will humble their pride and improve their manners; men shall continue to exist, but I will cut them in two and then they will be diminished in strength and increased in numbers; this will have the advantage of making them more profitable to us.

They shall walk upright on two legs, and if they continue insolent and will not be quiet, I will split them again and they shall hop about on a single leg.'

—Aristophanes, Plato's _Symposium_


	2. Chapter 1: The Power of Friendship

**Chapter 1: The Power of Friendship**

~_Rukia_~

* * *

><p>Teasing him was fun because:<p>

A) He more or less deserved it

B) It was her duty as best friend to straighten him out

C) She was about to make a journey across town for him at 3 o'clock in the morning when she had less than 6 hours to hand in her weekly column. Of course she wasn't going to go easy on him!

The power of friendship?

Go figure.

* * *

><p><strong>The Thing With Friends<strong>

_By: Sode no Shirayuki_

There are two kinds of friends in this world, the best friends and the friends with benefits. The only difference between the two is that while the latter stabs you in the back and actually might get away with it; the best friends probably end up in the same ward as you, nursing the exact same wounds.

They did after all say that misery loves company, right?

Okay, folks; jokes aside, but really answer me this: who is your best friend in the whole wide world? Some guys (or gals) said 'I married my best friend'; well congratulations to you both.

But the real question I'm asking is the same question Meg Ryan's been asking since '_When Harry Met Sally' _made its big screen debut: Can a guy and a gal ever simply be friends (best friends) without the big 'S' word in the middle?

Ladies and gentlemen, you have your views and yes, have no doubt that they do matter. But for yours truly, the answer has always been simple – read my lips 'Y-E-S'.

**Case no. 1: Shirayuki's best friend since university. **

'IK' as we shall call him, graduated in the same year with yours truly from the esteemed _Harvard University_. And yes, you right wonder; what is Shirayuki doing in _Harvard_ if she's in 'journalism'?

Well folks, back then yours truly was majoring in Linguistics with 'Shakespearean Literature' as a minor.

Now, back to the story. Receiving '_maxima cum laude_', it was really no surprise that IK was valedictorian whil-

* * *

><p><em><strong>~Backspace<strong>_

* * *

><p>I was watching a rerun of my all time favourite '<em>When Harry Met Sally<em>' the other day when my so-called best friend/ pain in the ass swooped down and changed the channel to watch '**Family Guy**'.

Naturally I had refused to give him full reign over _my_ TiVo, so a tickle fight broke out. The details were irrelevant, but it wasn't long before I found myself playing the old '20 Questions' while we were wrestling for the remote control.

Ichigo had asked me what my most memorable experience in college was. I told him that everything was the best experience I could ever have because I had a group of friends who I counted on to help me out of those sticky situations.

Can you believe that jerk called me a 'dork' for giving I quote 'the mushiest answer ever in the history of mushy lines'?

And after so much I've done for my so-called best friend! Way to go to show how you appreciate your best friend, Ichigo!

But that aside, the question I'm asking you this week is: What happened to your college buds after graduation?

Do you still pick up your phone and have their numbers on speed dials?

Do you still hang out with them?

Are you still living in the same area as them?

I've never lost contact with my 'rat pack'. I am happy to say that till this day, I still have my close friends' numbers on speed dial; I hang out with them on special occasions that include birthdays and weekends. But most of all, I live in the same city as my best friend- Ichigo.

* * *

><p><em><strong>~Backspace<strong>_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Rukia Kuchiki groaned as her dainty fingers hit the 'backspace' on her laptop for the umpteenth time. Folding her arms together, she glared at the illuminative screen; huffing in pure frustration as she had once again failed to come up with her weekly column piece on time.

Bad grammar, she could deal with; spelling mistakes were and have always been nonexistent in her line of work. But the pieces that she had been typing, backspacing and retyping again simply lacked one very important thing –soul.

And the lack of soul in her column just made her downright depressed. No matter how many times she rewrote it, reread it; it simply didn't feel right. She leaned back against her comfortable armchair; shutting her eyes tight as she tried to think of a new way of beginning the column.

Rubbing her weary temples, she tried to rearrange her thoughts; digging through bits and specks of random memory she had stored away for use in her 27 years of living as a human being on Earth.

_Think happy thoughts..._

_ Think Chappy..._

_Think…_

Urgh, who was she kidding? She had nothing. For once in her life, _the_ Rukia Kuchiki had run out of ideas and thoughts on how to start an article. The situation was worse than she thought.

After struggling for another few minutes, she simply rested her forehead against the cool surface of her mahogany worktable. She sighed. She had absolutely nothing; no inspiration, no idea, no drive at all.

For the past week, she had been in the most severe state of writer's block she had ever experienced. Her job as the most sought-after weekly columnist in the _Seattle Times_ was being threatened by it.

Damn writer's block, she cussed as she buried her mop of raven tresses in her hands. She had no choice but to come up with something. It might be crappy and of course not up to her impeccable 'Rukia Kuchiki's standard of work', but it should put food on the table.

Or at least, she hoped it would.

Her boss had been far from happy with her performance this particular week and as of now; she had 24 hours to complete her work.

She casted a glance at the grandfather clock in her apartment and grimaced. Scratch that, make it 6 hours.

How was she ever going to pass up her work on time?

How was she going to pay the rent?

How was she going to survive in Seattle?

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Without warning, her brand new _iPhone_ started dancing to Beethoven's '_Fur Elise_'. Furrowing her eyebrows, she marred her pretty features by curving her red plump lips to an annoyed frown.

She forgot to switch off her phone. Her day wasn't going well at all; first she couldn't get in touch with her inner muse and now, she forgot to switch off her cell. For all she knew, the day could only get even worse by ending with her dismissal from work. Can you imagine_ the_ Sode no Shirayuki, voted by local folks as the favourite columnist of Seattle getting fired!

Cursing inwardly, she tried to ignore the vibrating phone lying oh-so innocently beside her laptop; taking slow breathing exercises and trying to count backwards from '10'. She flexed her muscles not once; but twice before doing some basic stretching exercises to smoothen out the kinks on her back after the long hours of hunching over a laptop.

The keyword of course being '**tried**'.

In the end, rationality and annoyance won out. Despite how she hated being called in the middle of a heavy thinking session while she was focusing to write, Rukia picked out her phone; switching it to 'loudspeaker' mode without bothering glance at the caller ID.

_Yo, Rukia._

XXX

She recognized his voice instantaneously. The quick glance she gave at the caller ID, confirmed that it was really her best friend (aka a fool with a death wish) on the line.

Turning her attention back to the screen, she grumbled menacingly. That idiot called, even though she had specifically told him 'not to call'. Didn't he know that she had a column to finish? And that she couldn't afford any distractions at all?

She grimaced. The things she does for that strawberry.

"What do you want, Kurosaki!" she snapped.

"Rukia Kuchiki! Is that any way for a Kuchiki princess to act and speak?"

She snorted loud enough for him to hear. "Oh gee I don't know, but I guess that's what happens when you wcall her at 3 o'clock in the morning! So could you just spit out what you want, my patience is running thin."

"Wow, grouchy much? Rukia, what's crawled out your midget ass this time?"

"Kurosaki," she growled. "Call me 'midget' again; and I swear I will end this conversation. I've said it once and I say it again, SPIT OUT WHAT YOU WANT!"

"Okay, okay. Relax, Rukia. No need to scream. I'm not an old man you know?"

"Well you could have fooled me, Mister." She had stopped typing altogether and focused all of her attention to the conversation between them. She sighed, holding the _iPhone_ directly in front of her mouth, rubbing her throbbing temple. "Come on, Ichigo. Get to the point. What is it this time?"

"I need a ride, Rukia. Come pick me up at Grace."

"G-Grace, as in **the** _Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital_; as in the Seattle Grace where you and Uryu work at," Rukia spluttered.

"The one and only."

"Jesus, Ichigo," she muttered under a breath as she sat upright in her seat. "You do know that I am currently having one of the worst cases of writer's block of the century and that I have a column piece to finish in 6 hours if I want to keep my job, right?" She bit her bottom lip. "What happened to your _Ferrari_?

"She's at the workshop. Urahara's fixing her some new tyres." She rolled her eyes. Men, so typical. How a medical school valedictorian could graduate with full distinction without having any sense to check his own schedule with his mechanic was beyond her.

Did he ever pause to consult his schedule before making any decisions at all?

Nope; definitely not. Knowing that brash, stubborn orange-head friend of hers, he probably did everything on whim.

Which was yet another reason why it was always a pleasure for her to irk him by saying 'I told you so'; well; not exactly in those words, but the meaning was more or less the same.

Her tone turned coy as her dark violet eyes had a sudden mischievous gleam in them. This was going to be fun.

XXX

"Oh, I don't know, Ichigo. I did say that I have a column to finish, right? Why don't you ask the others? Uryu works in the same hospital as you and Chad passes through that place every evening. I'm pretty sure either of them wouldn't mind giving you a ride," She offered as she began to twirl the ends of her raven locks idly.

"Four-eyes's on a date with some chick called Nomy or something like that and Chad's in New York. He's not going to be back until next week. But then again, why am I wasting my breath here since you obviously knew that, Rukia?"

The corners of her luscious lips curled upwards. Damn, he was good.

"How did you know that I kn-"

"Oh puh-lease, Rukia. Have some faith! This is your best friend since college on the phone with you! And let's not forget that I'm also the valedictorian of my year; of course, I would've figured it out. I 'read' you with just a twitch of your eyebrows."

Her eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. "Wow, egoistical much! It's a wonder you could still walk with such a big head on your shoulders."

"Well, you know me; I'm _infallible_."

"And just when I thought _Burj Khalifa_ was the tallest thing in existence. Don't you think that it's funny Guinness World Record hasn't come knocking at your door?" replied Rukia dryly.

"Oh hearty har har, Rukia. And the lamest joke of the year goes to, drum rolls please, Rukia Kuchiki! Congratulations, Rukia! I bet even that Nomy chick of Uryu's could tell funnier jokes than you could. I mean, she can't do anything worse, right?"

"Her name is _Nemu_, Ichigo," she corrected. "**NEMU**; not Nomy and she's Professor Kurotsuchi's daughter. You do remember that old coot, right?"

"How could I forget him? Every time I close my eyes, I could smell the faint whiff of the legendary 'Rafflesia Ammonified Rotten Egg Concoction Special'; gives me nightmares and vomit urges. Uryu sure had some guts to date the old nut case's daughter. But that aside, Rukia; stop changing the topic. Come and pick me up!"

XXX

She was starting to get really annoyed. "But Ichigo, what part of 'I'm busy', do you not comprehend? Do you honestly **want** me to end up on the streets, penniless and homeless?"

There were a few moments of silence before she heard him replying. His tone was as sarcastic and crude as ever whenever the conversation veered towards the direction of her brother.

"Penniless, my ass. Your brother is Byakuya fucking Kuchiki. CEO of _Kuchiki Corp_ and _Senbonzakura Enterprise_, ring any bells; princess? Besides, you're a worldwide bestselling writer. How exactly can you be 'penniless', huh? Sometimes I don't even understand why you need that columnist job."

She frowned. She never did understand the animosity between her brother and her best friend. They were like water and potassium; two components that did not bode well together; and extremely volatile upon contact. It drove her to points of insanity when it came to dealing with both of them together.

Why can't the two most important men in her life just get along happily?

"Ichigo, don't drag the column into this! And I told you, the column helps to keep my brain fresh with thinking up plots and stuff. And don't talk about nii-sama like that! Need I remind you that he was the one who graciously helped you out with your first job interview?"

"Rukia, the first job interview I ever had was as a salesman in one of the Kuchiki chain-stores under his management! He basically just moved my name about 4 places higher from my original position on the list. I really won't call that 'helping'? Did Byakuya ever tell you that?"

She bit her lips. She had specifically asked nii-sama to 'help', well maybe it was her fault for being vague about 'help', but still that did not give that ridiculous orange-head of a jerk shouting rights!

"Well, at least he helped. You know what? I'm tired of this conversation! Why don't you just flag down a taxi or hitch a ride from the subway?"

Rukia huffed. She was really going to have a face-to-face talk with her brother about this.

XXX

"Rukiaaaaaa."

She ignored him; her thumb lingering on the 'end call' button.

"Rukia, I can't get a ride from a taxi, the subways or any public transportation for the moment."

"..."

"Rukia, I left my wallet at home…"

She couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. What a complete scatter-brain idiot! She laughed so hard that her sides hurt and tears were forming from the corner of her eyes. She laughed even harder when she heard him growling on the other line.

"Shut up! It's not funny, Rukia!"

"It is too! This is what, the 12th time this month you left your wallet home! Gosh, Ichigo; I didn't know you were such a clueless scatter-brain! You have been taking lessons in 'Scatterbrain 101', haven't you?"

Rukia tried holding in her spurts of laughter to no avail. Imagine the look of appall the Kuchiki elders will have if they saw her behaving in such an undignified manner on the phone!

"Rukiaaaaa, you witch! Honestly, what was I thinking? Fine! Just don-"

"Hold it right there, Kurosaki. I never said anything about 'not coming' now, did I?" She playfully queried.

"Ruki_**aaaa**_…"

She smirked deviously as she heard him growling and muttering angrily on the other line. Well that's what you get when you mess with the raven-haired workaholic on one of her cramming/writing sessions.

"You are one very very evil little midget, Rukia Kuchiki,"

"And you," came her reply as she slowly eased her frozen posture out of her comfortable armchair, "Ichigo Kurosaki, are one very very annoying freakishly tall giant." She stretched lethargically before grabbing the car keys on the stand.

She yawned; putting on her shoes mechanically while holding her _iPhone_ with her right hand.

"Che, it's not my fault that you're just so vertically challenged!"

Her amethyst eyes narrowed while she pursed her lips slightly. "Just so you know this petite or as you mentioned 'vertically challenged' authoress also happens to be your only ticket home. It would help if you would be a tad bit more supportive and cooperative."

"Touche."

XXX

The line went static for a few seconds while she grabbed her midnight black pair of open-toed suede _Jimmy Choo_ pumps sitting silently on her shoe rack. She did not pause to slip on any coats because of the stifling midsummer heat.

Mornings just weren't even remotely chilly at 3 o'clock in the morning. She can't wait for autumn to set in.

"_Rukia_?"

"What now, Ichigo?" She gritted through clenched teeth as she balanced the phone against her ear with one hand and struggled with her _Jimmy Choo_ shoe straps with the other.

"Oh nothing important, Rukia. But can you just um…, _god I feel like shooting myself_, please hurry up. Senna's been giving me these very creepy looks; kinda like Godzilla. And you know they don't call her 'Cougar' for nothing, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's your ego talking. I'm sure that in reality Senna is actually a very nice person."

"Nice person, my foot Rukia! I've caught her lurking near the men's lockers with that creepy smile that serial murderers have when they're about to kill and don't even get me started about the times I caught her staring!"

"Staring at what, exactly? You? Gosh, you're right, Ichigo. She is demented. How can anybody in this entire universe stare at you and not get a migraine from your colourful hair?" she said sarcastically.

"Rukia, as your best friend/doctor, I seriously suggest you cut down the sarcasm levels. Besides, she's not just demented. She's freaking loony. And I'm not the only one who's notice that she's daydreaming a lot while staring at me, or rather more specifically my butt."

She froze; one shoe on while the other hung by the strap from her right hand grip.

"Wait; you're telling me that she stalks you and frequently has naughty thoughts going on inside her mind about your butt! I thought Mer was kidding when she told me Senna has OCDYMDS."

"It gets worse, Rukia. Trust me, a hell lot worse. By the way, what is OCDYMDS?"

"**O**bsessive **C**ougar-like **D**isorder towards **Y**oung **M**ale **D**octors **S**yndrome." She replied without skipping a beat.

"Well, that makes sense. I'm telling y- _Oh shit,_ here she comes. Rukiaaaa!"

She groaned. "I'll see what I can do," she said before ending the call.

Slipping the sleek phone into her jeans pocket, she slid her left foot impatiently out of her expensive _Jimmy Choo_, and quickly left them on the cold tiles (something she would never do on a daily basis). Instead, she donned on a pair of green flip flops before rushing out of her condo; almost forgetting to lock the door in her haste to get into her car.

Honestly, the things she does for saving that too-dense-for-his-own-good strawberry from the jaws of his hungry, rabid fan girls!

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

The reason for my 5 month long hiatus. Before you go ranting about the general fickleness that I personalized by being _moi_. Just be happy to know that 'My Platonic Reasons' has at least half of the chapters pre-typed and the story will be updated monthly.

Special thanks to **Black Sun Upon An Icy Sky**, **darklover** and **kanita-chan**. Without you guys as my muse and support, I would've given this up quite some time ago. THANK YOU!

Talk about a nice change of working plans, eh? Well, don't forget to 'read and review'.

For all those who find K. Ichigo here a tad bit too OOC here, let's not forget this is an AU fic and according my story, he's currently a 27 year old third-year Resident.

PS. Isn't Seattle Grace Mercy West a **GREY**-at place to work at?

PPS. I originally wanted to put their surnames in front, but seeing as to how most of the chapters take place in the English speaking world, I took the liberty of placing the personal names in front instead; hope that you guys wouldn't mind that too much.


	3. Chapter 2: Chappy ROCKS!

**Chapter 2: Chappy ROCKS!**

_~Ichigo~_

* * *

><p>The only reasons he was going to the stupid Chappy Convention were because:<p>

A) She forced him into it.

B) Saying 'no' to her was harder than saying 'no' to a puppy. And no, that did not mean that he finds her cute, but rather she has trouble interpreting his words. 'No' somehow always = 'Yes'

C) What kind of friend would he be if he didn't go with her? If she was going to go hyper on Chappy and make a complete fool of herself, you can bet your ass that he's going to be the one with the camera and snapping the photos.

So there!

* * *

><p><em>Ichigo.<em>

His sleeping senses stirred as something akin to a nudge was felt on his shoulders and the sound of someone calling his name invaded his ears. Something inside of him was jolted awake by the sound; not enough to keep him completely awake, but there was enough jolts to power his brain and actually start thinking.

And that was exactly the last thing on his mind right now. For crying out loud, he barely scraped through the agonizing 8 hours he spent on his night shift.

Even though by now he's supposed to be a 3rd Year Resident and practically a veteran in the 'staying awake the whole damn night' business, truth was; a man needed his beauty sleep.

So there call him a 'wimp' or 'pansy', but for God's sake, just let him sleep!

He rolled to his sides; hating that evil voice that separated him from his dreams by the minute as he clamped a pillow around his ears.

It was just too noisy and too early for him. Was the stupid radio on again?

He frowned.

Where's the goddamned 'snooze' button?

XXX

_Ichigo! _

_Ichigo! _

_Wake up! You oaf! _

_I said '__**wake up**__'!_

** Ichigo Kurosaki!**

XXX

There it was again.

He frowned. Somehow that voice sounded awfully familiar.

And just where exactly had he heard it before?

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

A hard jab caught him in his chest; causing him to double over spluttering for air.

Wide awake while gasping for air, he carefully shied his amber eyes away from the sunlight streaming from the open window before he struggled to focus the bleary sight of the newcomer against the strong glares of the morning sun.

The moment his vision cleared, he found himself lying on his plush bed in his tastefully decorated bachelor pad and was currently left under the wrathful gaze of his favourite raven-head in all her 4'9" glory; glaring daggers at him, as if he was a monster who ate kitties and children for breakfast.

He gulped. If looks could kill, then Ichigo was pretty sure Rukia Kuchiki was a woman behind bars and he, the poor soul lying six feet under with a piece of stone tablet that read 'RIP'.

He scowled; trying best to reign in his coughing fit.

The warmth and heat of the morning sun danced on naked skin as he propped himself upwards to lean against the headboard; his washboard chest exposed to the streaming light rays. He averted his eyes from the light and instead focused them on his best friend.

Just what was that all about?

XXX

"G.. _cough_.. G.. _cough_…Good god, you vicious she-devil! What were you trying to do? Murder me in my sleep?" he asked incredulously while patting his chest viciously.

Her pretty little nose was held high; impressively ignoring his loud remarks. From the corner of her sooty dark, naturally-curled eyelashes, she glared at him. A searing pair of hot coals that burnt upon contact held him astounded and utterly bewildered.

"Do you even know what the time is!" she screeched. Her arms flailing about in a dramatic way as she made flying gestures amidst her tirade.

He yawned; but was wise enough to do it discreetly. What exactly was she up to?

In the span of merely minutes talking to her, she had completely lost him.

He took a glance at his alarm clock to see bold red numerals, blinking luminously in his line of vision. It was 7 in the morning.

He did a double take. The frown on his face deepened.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

"Christ, Rukia. You freaking woke me up before 9 on a Sunday morning." Giving a loud groan, he quickly dived under the covers, pulling them up to cover himself.

"You could at least let me sleep in seeing how I just spent the past 8 hours working my ass off on the graveyard shift."

"Get up, you sleep-craving strawberry. Ichigo! GET UP!"she hollered as she began to tug sharply at the covers.

"NO!" he roared as he seized the ends of his blanket; extremely reluctant to surrender the warmth of his blanket and the rest of his beautiful Sunday morning.

Whatever Rukia had planned for him, certainly did not involve 'sleep' and 'breakfast in bed'.

So unless he was looking forward to a very busy day filled with all sorts of body-numbing activities, he was going to have to give his best shot in saving his blanket and staying in his bed.

"Rukia, you have got to get it through your tough skull; Sunday mornings are for sleeping in. Repeat after me 'Sunday mornings are for sl- HEY!"

He was rudely cut off from his sentence when his best friend started grabbing hold of his warm quilt blanket and pulled hard. He gritted his teeth under the covers and held on to them.

Well, if that's the way she wants to play it. He was damn well not going to lose in this tug of war.

XXX

"Damn it, you oaf! I said, let go!" came her indignant demand.

"Over my dead body, you evil imp!"

The temperature in the room dropped dangerously low before she started shrieking. "Did you just call me an 'imp', Kurosaki!"

She heaved in anger. Her tone was bordering dangerously close to being murderous. If he wasn't busy keeping a firm hold on the blanket and struggling to stay under it, he would have laughed.

"Well what if I did, Kuchiki!" he taunted.

And as expected, she took the jibe. "Why; you rotten, good-for-nothing Strawberry! This is your last chance to let go! "

"Read my lips, midget! N-O!" he hollered; making sure to grab a fistful of the soft material in both hands and keeping any bright orange strands of hair safe under the cover of the blanket.

The vicious authoress can be dangerous at times, especially when she feels downright nasty enough to tug at a certain orange-head's hair.

Ichigo shuddered at the memory.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

"You just sealed your own fate, berry-head!"

He refused to back down. "Bring it on, pipsqueak!"

A heated tug-of-war ensued between the two best friends while insults and name-calling flew across the bedroom.

_Ooof!_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

A loud crash resonated throughout the spacious apartment. The constant pulling and bantering had suddenly reached an impasse as silence drowned the room. Ichigo froze.

"Rukia?" he called out tentatively; his head still hidden under the blanket. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm not, you baka! Look what you made me do!"

With both hands still clutching the ends of his blanket tightly, he cautiously raised his head from the covering blanket; only to see Rukia plopping disgracefully on the hard wooden floorings.

The navy blue dress she had on had hiked up to her thighs, revealing creamy-looking alabaster skin while the look of annoyance on her scowling visage intensified. Her glossy black hair was slightly ruffled and it certainly didn't help that her hands had clenched themselves into two bundled-up fists with her malicious intent afloat throughout the room.

But even that couldn't stop him from snorting. The twinkle of amusement was evident in his eyes.

"Stop whatever you're doing right now, Kurosaki!" she growled.

The smirk on his face could only broaden itself. "And pray tell, what exactly am I doing, Kuchiki?"

She glared venomously at him as she tightened her fists. "It's **NOT** funny!"

"Says the midget who's sitting on the floor," he smirked.

The bed covers he draped over himself had slipped until they were down to the waist-band of his trousers; showcasing his well-sculpted abs and washboard chest that simply made the female workers in the hospital wild with lust.

He peeked from the corner of his eyes.

Same narrowed eyes, same clenched fists, same annoyed and irritated as hell expression.

He sighed.

Too bad it didn't have the same effect on his best friend.

In fact, she was probably the only anomaly in the case. Girls, well normal girls, would die just to see him stripped naked in front of them, but not Rukia.

He suppressed a chuckle at the thought.

Rukia _kicks_ his shins and practically _orders_ him to put on some decent clothes instead of prancing around half-naked like an animal.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

"_AH! Ichigo! What the hell are you thinking, you pea-brained idiot! Put on a shirt! Before my landlady or heaven-forbid, nii-sama comes in and gets a heart attack!" she screamed as she frantically combed through the open drawers; digging for a T-shirt before throwing one that looked slightly gay and flowery with a message that read 'Peace be the Answer' towards him. _

_He cringed at her choice of clothing, inspecting the T-shirt like it was a bug under a microscope. It was pink. He sniffed the offending garment curiously. And there was something oddly fruity about it. Putting it on, he viewed his reflection in the mirror. It was a tight fit._

_He grimaced. Did she keep random guy T-shirts that just happen to look gay or were those her 'type'? _

_How did she end up with such a horrible piece of crap?_

_Before he had the chance to open his mouth, however she had already thrown out her explanation._

"_It was Rangiku's. She left it during one of her sleepovers. I heard that it was supposed to be Renji's Christmas present." She replied in a blithe manner. _

_His face paled. With both hands on the hem on the disgusting T-shirt, he wasted no time throwing the atrocious thing into the washing basket. _

_Rukia glared at him. _

"_Oh for God's sake, Rukia. You can't be serious! That shirt was so damn disgusting that even Renji didn't want it. You can't expect me to wear _**that**_! Besides, I'm dressed! I'm wearing a pair of jeans. That's hardly scandalous enough to cause anyone much less Byakuya an orgasm on the spot!" said Ichigo as he defended himself._

"_ICHIGO!"_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He winced. He corrected himself.

Rukia _screams_ **and** kicks his shins. It was wonder he hadn't gone deaf throughout the years. Sometimes being Rukia Kuchiki's best friend was synonymous with being her 'kick-him-in-the-shins-and-he-won't-sue' person.

The wheels in his mind started turning; making tinkering noises as they did. He tapped his finger against his unshaven chin; feeling a rough patch of stubble that was quickly forming underneath.

Why does she treat him so differently?

Does that mean that she didn't think he was hot?

Then, what type of guys did she find attractive?

Heck, did she even have a type?

No, scratch that; did Rukia Kuchiki, international best-selling author/Kuchiki heiress/his best friend even date?

At all?

XXX

He frowned. Hang on right there; did he actually _want_ Rukia to notice his perfect good looks and killer abs?

What the hell was wrong with him?

It's Rukia he's talking about here; his best friend since college, his confidante (strictly **platonic**-wise), his personal pain in the neck, his nakama.

Why was he even thinking about her 'type'?

It was so wrong in _so_ many levels. He shook his head clear of the ridiculous notions.

Really, what was he thinking? No way was he thinking about Rukia in that way!

EW!

He grimaced. He must have been more sleep depraved than he thought. It's like eating Inoue's curry-powdered vanilla pudding with bean paste all over again.

YUCK!

No! Rukia is a friend. His best friend, nothing more and nothing less.

That's it.

**CASE CLOSED!**

_END OF THE STORY!_

THE END!

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He threw the covers up until it reached his chin as he lay on his back. He shut his eyes tight as he turned to his left side hoping that the midget would stop bothering him and let him be.

Suffice to say he was dead wrong. And the next thing he experienced simply took his breath away.

**Literally.**

XXX

Faster than he could blink, a dead weight had seemingly latched itself onto his lower abdomen; flying from nowhere and ended up on his injured abdomen; knocking the wind out of him as the weight settled and the force of it kicked in.

Tawny eyelashes fluttered open out of their own accord. Amber-coloured irises blinked out the tears rapidly as a searching gleam settled.

And just like that, amber met amethyst.

His breath hitched and really the reason behind it was quite simple, because Rukia Kuchiki was currently lying on top of him. Her small frame was practically molded against his lanky and half-naked (saved by the blanket) form with him trapped between her smooth alabaster legs.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Holy Jesus, his best friend was _**straddling**_ him!

A complete meltdown assaulted him head-on. He told himself he wasn't even going to see the rest of their entangled bodies, but his eyes were still wide open and he saw quite simply, everything.

Her milk-white porcelain palms laid open against the blanket covering his chest, the only means of support she had for supporting herself.

He gulped. A single layer of cotton was all that stood between naked skin; her delicate digits on his chiseled chest.

This was not good at all.

His line of sight trailed upwards. He suddenly noticed the non-existent distance between them.

They're close enough to bump their noses together if any one of them inched any closer to the other; close enough for him to see the faint flicker of cerulean that laced her amethyst orbs; close enough to see the lines that ran across her luscious lips as she licked them nervously.

He wondered if she was affected by him as much as he was by her. He searched for his answer in her expressive eyes; the pair of darkening jewels that threaten to swallow him whole; body, mind and soul.

Wait, he blinked before he started cussing mentally; berating himself for his stupidity. That was so cliché.

'Swallow him whole'?

Dear god, was he for real?

No, he told himself.

This had gone too far. And he was going to stop it.

With a turn of his head, he broke eye contact.

He heard her exhale. Her warm breath strayed a little too close to his reddening ears. He hoped she didn't notice them or hear the pulsating beatings of his heart that was ramming against his rib-cage with every shuddering breath he took.

* * *

><p><em>Stop fidgeting and act calm. Be a man, Ichigo.<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he turned his gaze away from her searching eyes before speaking; steadying his voice with pure determination.

"It's Chappy, isn't it?"

"How did yo-"

He rolled his eyes dramatically, not even bothering to turn and look at her to gauge her reaction and expression. He really could read her like a book.

* * *

><p><em>Isn't that scary?<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

"Rukia, there's only _two_ things in the world that can make you wake up before 9 on a weekend morning or public holiday. It's either Chappy or Byakuya."

"Don't call nii-sama by his given name! It's disrepectful," she pouted.

He looked at her dead in the eyes. The embarrassment he initially experienced was ebbing away as he soon became comfortable in the position.

Well, as comfortable as any grown, hot-blooded male would be if they have their best friend who also happened to be a girl lying on top of him.

"It's either that or 'stick-in-the-ass'. Which one would you prefer?" he asked in mock seriousness.

She gave him a light punch on the chest without commenting. And then, quite suddenly as if struck by divine intervention for thought, she decided to rest her head on his chest.

His heart skipped a beat as his hands turned clammy. His Adam's apple bobbed and he retaliated by evening his breathing.

Now if only his thundering heart could be still…

XXX

Even underneath the weight of his blanket, he could feel the weight of her fair jet-black locks fanning and spread out on top of him. They smelt like lavender, winter roses and clean laundry. And he soon noticed that despite her fiery temper that flared up easily, her body temperature was a completely different story.

He lifted his arm out from the comfortingly warm blanket and wrapped it around her in a somewhat awkward manner; resembling a makeshift hug.

Underneath his finger tips, her body felt cool and fragile; almost like a little porcelain doll. Her skin was just soft and smooth to the touch. He even thought for one second, that he was touching a baby.

He shut his eyes as a smile appeared on his lips; a smile hidden from the rest of the world.

He sighed. It felt nice.

Nice to just hug his best friend as they were in a _completely_ unpretentious manner.

Nice to just sleep in on a Sunday and day off without having any interruptions.

He sighed.

He couldn't think of a better way to spend a Sunday morning.

XXX

"You know, there's a teensy weensy flaw with that statement, Ichigo." came her sultry alto; shattering the lovely silence that surrounded them.

He opened his eyes; his left eyebrow raised slightly higher than the other. "Well then, would the great Rukia Kuchiki care to enlighten me?"

She laughed; a cross between a giggle and a snort. The vibrations were felt on his sensitive skin as goosebumps rose from contact. He tried to peer at her expression but she had hid her face effectively by lying on top of him; her face was pressed against the blanket and he had to crane his neck just to catch a glimpse of her neck.

He reclined against the soft mattress somewhat disappointed.

"There're only **three** things that would make me wake up before 9 on a Sunday morning," she said; turning and propping herself up with her elbow, her amethyst, blue-toned irises met his with complete sincerity and honesty as she finished.

"And you're the third, Ichigo."

His heart skipped a beat. Something in his chest just swelled hearing that. It was as if his chest was so full that it was ready to burst.

His heart was thundering so loud that it was a miracle she hadn't noticed yet.

* * *

><p><em>Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-tump.<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He licked his dry lips. What exactly was his best friend doing to him?

But then after a lengthy pause, he chuckled, shaking his head clear of the silly notions going through his mind. He wrote it off as typical Rukia behavior.

Oh God, the complex enigma called Rukia Kuchiki-his best friend. If he could get a dollar for every time he figured her out, then he would be a billionaire right now.

It was just so typical her to be like that; crazy and angry at one minute, sweet and kind at the next.

She's just so whimsical that it drives anyone crazy.

Sometimes it drives him crazy, keeping up with her mood swings.

XXX

He remembered that one time when she said she wanted sushi and just when they reached the sushi bar, she said she had a sudden urge for _Escargots_ with the nearest French restaurant being 16 kilometres away from where they were.

He wasn't going to lie; it made him feel positively homicidal.

With a very, very, **very** intense urge to strange her.

Mind you, that was just the tip of the iceberg for her. She could do much, **much** worse.

And he had much, **much** more intense and deadly urges to kill her.

More than once.

But then again, she's Rukia.

He could never stay mad at her for over half a day. He could never bring himself to refuse her.

And that was why, five minutes from now he knew he was going to regret what he did.

So before he had the time to change his mind, he opened his mouth and signed his own death warrant.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

"So… whose car are we driving?"

She frowned. Her lips pulled to form a curving line with a raised eyebrow just to show her puzzlement of his remark.

He rolled his eyes. Yup; definitely another one of those intense moments when he felt the need to just strangle her with his bare hands. He faked a cough, looking away from her as he did.

"You know, the Chappy Convention," he prompted.

Her eyes widened to their full extent; shinning with jewel-like brilliance; almost, he thought like a little girl curious with how her daddy knew exactly what Christmas gift she wanted. It was so juvenile and innocent, and something he just didn't think anyone in the world but her could pull off.

"How did you know that it was a Convention?" she inquired.

He fought down the urge to roll his eyes for the nth time of the day.

"Rukia, it's a Sunday. It's always Chappy on Sunday mornings."

* * *

><p>Author's note:<p>

'Escargots' is the French term for snails. Mind you, they don't taste half bad. How did you think their morning went? A little too fluffy and sweet? PM and review to let me know.

Next Chapter: It's time for Rukia's take on their 'mornings together'. Get ready for another one of Hese's fluff overdose.

PS. Do doctors have day offs?


	4. Chapter 3: Morning, Gorgeous!

**Chapter 3: Morning, Gorgeous!**

_~Rukia~_

* * *

><p>There were reasons why she enjoyed their chick-flick marathons:<p>

A) There would always be fresh banana muffins, home-made mind you; sitting on the kitchen counter the next morning.

B) He would stay for the night and makes himself 'useful' in the morning.

C) She gets to be the first thing he sees in the morning. And the morning light, always always brought out his eyes. In the light, they just shine. Cliché, but it's true.

Was it illegal to find your best friend cute in the morning?

* * *

><p>Her left hand subconsciously trailed up and down on her bare arms.<p>

She grimaced; she hated the cold. Just where was the heater when you need it? She had the sudden urge to grab hold of something; something warm, soft and cuddly.

Her left hand reached out, fumbling clumsily with both her eyes shut. After what seemed to be a whole century of grappling aimlessly in the dark, she finally had her right palm wrapped along _something_. She tested the texture of the item caught between her fingers.

It was soft, smooth to the touch; like a worn-in piece of cotton cloth. And the best thing was the mysterious item or rather something near to it was generating heat.

She smiled.

That would do just fine.

With both her hands bunching in a fistful of the mysterious object, she managed to pull her half-awake self over to the heat source. Scooting closer in and snuggling deeper to make herself comfortable, she didn't stop until she had her head resting against it; making a very comfy pillow for herself.

A content smile was on her lips as she lied perfectly still against her 'pillow'. She had her nose pressed against it and greedily inhaled the faint whiff of cinnamon permeating from it.

She then instinctively draped her arm around it; curling herself against it and tightening her grip around it until their position came to resemble some form of an awkward hug.

XXX

_"Hey, squirt; go easy on the bear hug before I suffocate to death."_

XXX

She frowned.

Pillows don't talk.

She released the tight hold she had around her 'pillow', settling instead to run her hands up and down the front of her 'pillow'. Her frown deepened.

That was strange. Her 'pillow' was actually hard and broad. She ran them down lower and shifted them to the lower left of it repeatedly.

Strange; since when did 'pillows' have such well-defined cuts and became sculpted?

She poked at it with her index finger. Were those actually human muscles?

XXX

_"Rukia, stop that! It tickles."_

And pillows are certainly **NOT** ticklish.

XXX

Rukia shot up ramrod straight. Her bleary eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to get the bearings of her surroundings. She saw couches in a deep burgundy colour arranged neatly around her, a coffee table set with an empty bowl and two stained coffee mugs set and the 43-inch LCD screen on the opposite wall. It took a second for everything to sink in.

She almost wanted to kick herself. She was lying on one of the leather couches in her living room. And her so-called 'pillow' was none other than her best friend.

Said friend was currently staring at his flimsy T-shirt in disgust. "You drool in your sleep."

The heiress scoffed; taking her time to make a casual sweep of her best friend under the guise of some morning stretching to smooth out the kinks and cricks.

A sliver of the bright sun ray entered her eyes as they peeked through the Venetian blinds, illuminating the tiny details she wouldn't normally notice about her friend.

Under the bright glow of the morning sun, everything about her best friend just shined. She mentally gave herself a slap on the head, but that was the truth.

XXX

His toned body had somehow obtained a striking sheen of bronze on them, like he was sporting a very nice tan. With his lean but muscular six pack abs, he was really a sight to behold.

No wonder the female population of _Seattle Grace_ can't leave him alone.

Let's face it, her best friend was beautiful.

He had a lanky but well-toned figure, an unblemished, not to mention well-sculpted face; blessed with high cheek bones, a strong jaw line, a soulful pair of eyes and a pair of luscious full lips.

Heck, the chiseled good looks of his even included a well-defined philtrum.

Just how many men in this world could sport the same attributes?

If they were on some vacation on the tropics, her best friend could definitely pass as a beach-loving local hottie.

Add in that unruly shock of tousled orange locks, and you've got yourself a deadly handsome badass/beach-loving local hottie with very much defined and to-die-for facial plus body features.

Any hot-blooded female out there would have taken one look at him before swooning and go all gooey under his gaze.

* * *

><p><em>Any woman except the said man's best friend that is.<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Because being his best friend, Rukia was able to look past the attractive physical aspects of him and see the real him underneath his tough guy exterior but still appreciate the sight of his rugged good looks.

And only thing that really captivated her undivided attention was the pair of golden-brown specks he had for eyes. They were a deep set of 'melt-me-down' butterscotch; their golden-hued tones always changing to suit his moods and the lighting of his surroundings.

They scintillated, glowed, glimmered, gleamed, shone; well she had already run out of adjectives to describe them over the years she knew him.

They were just… _gorgeous_.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Rukia jolted herself back into reality upon deciding that she had spent far too much time rambling and going on her 'author mode'. With the regained use of her limbs, she slightly inched herself away from Ichigo; a reflex action she had gotten used to in her years as a Kuchiki.

She yawned, muffling it with the back of her palm. "What movies?" she asked, thankful that he had not noticed her silence.

He tapped his index finger against his chin, his eyes at the white ceiling as he listed the movies from memory. "Well, we had _Pride and Prejudice_, um… _Titanic_, _Persuasion_ and the all time classic _Casablanca_. I think you fell asleep half way through _Casablanca_ though."

"I did not," she stood up; turning to make her way into the kitchen, "Do banana muffins sound good to you?"

His right hand had shot out to grip her wrist before she could leave his side and make another step to the kitchen. She stared at him quizzically.

Ichigo however propped himself up; his upper half body set upright on the couch and supported by the arm-rest as he looked her dead in the eyes. His grip on her wrist was firm yet gentle as his soft butterscotch eyes bore themselves into her soul.

He sighed. "We can do this the hard way or the easy way."

She gave him a blank stare; the perfect neutral expression on her face. "What are you talking about?"

He groaned before scowling. "Why are you always this stubborn, Rukia? What are you hiding from me?"

"N-N-Nothing. What makes you think that?"

She gulped. The guilt that she was indeed hiding something from him made her look away; the only reason she wasn't sprinting away into the safety of her kitchen being the fact that her best friend had clasped an iron-clad grip around her slender wrist.

He snorted. "You're not a very good liar, Rukia. You actually forced me to sit through the whole day with you, watching chick flicks when you would normally be hogging the TiVo for reruns of _Chappy Adventures, Supernatural _and _NCIS_. Last time this happened, you thought Byakuya was involved in some sort of road accident and had actually died!"

He tightened the hold he had on her as he gave her another deep, penetrating look. Leaning back against the arm-rest, he asked. "So?" he nudged her.

"You're going to tell me what's wrong?"

She bit her lower lips. Seeing her hesitation, he gestured at the unoccupied space beside him on the couch; beckoning her to sit and gave her _the_ look. She just knew he was never going to let her live it down if she didn't comply with his wishes, begrudgingly followed his demands.

His hold on her wrist remained while she plopped down on the couch and hugged a pillow to her chest.

XXX

"Boss threatened to fire me," she mumbled.

He stiffened; going perfectly still for a whole second before resuming his casual lean. His fingers were clenched tight and his face entirely blank.

"What happened?"

She sighed, tucking the stray bang behind her ears. "Let's just say we had some _creative differences_." She bit her tongue hard; actually what really happened was a shouting match in the office.

She and the boss were trading insults and hurling curses like ping-pongs on the ping pong table, but he didn't need to know the messy details.

He nodded tersely. His hand tightened just a fraction on her wrist, others would have easily overlooked it; but she knew it as a sign of him trying to reign in his anger.

She sighed inwardly. This was why she didn't want to tell him in the first place.

XXX

"What did you say to him?"

"I told him to save his breath," she said. Her amethyst eyes wandered out of their own accord to meet his soft brown ones. His warm hand instinctively reached to grab hold of hers.

"I told him to save his breath because I quit."

XXX

The authoress held her breath, waiting for his reaction. Less than a second later, she found his large, comforting arm draped over her shoulders. The hold on her wrist pulled her towards him. She didn't resist it.

Instant relief and gratitude flooded her senses the moment she was able to lay her head against his chest.

He shifted his position on the couch without disturbing her as he ruffled her hair with his large palm. "What are you going to do, now? Tired of the regular jobs and ready to pick up the mantle as a full-time writer or are you still holding on to your 'part-time-writing-lets-you-have-better-experience-dealing-with-characters' thing?"

Her expression turned thoughtful. "Honestly, I don't know. I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get there."

She kept her head still on his chest, her eye lids growing heavier as he started rubbing lazy circles along her forearm. She could have easily fallen asleep if it wasn't for the strange rumbling coming from his chest. It took a few minutes for her to register that he was actually chuckling.

It was a rare thing indeed to see the notoriously cranky doctor crack a smile. Naturally, the petite authoress wanted to know why.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

He chuckled. "You- weirdo."

She gave him a playful slap on the shoulders. "I am not."

"Liar!"

She folded her arms, her lips shaped into a pout. "Well prove it!" She glared at him. "I dare you to prove that I'm actually a 'weirdo'!"

He rolled his eyes. "Normal girls bawl their heart out when something like this happens. They eat _Haagen-Dazs_ or _Baskin Robbins _by the tube. They have their best gal friends to 'dish'." He used air quotes to emphasize his point.

"You, on the other hand, force your best friend who in this case happens to be a _guy_ to sit through a whole torturous day with you, watching chick flicks. You eat popcorn like there's no tomorrow and you sit through the whole damn marathon without even shedding a tear. It's inhuman."

He paused for dramatic effect. "Rukia Kuchiki, you are **NOT** normal."

She snorted. "If I happen to be the weirdo girl, then you're the loony guy who stays with her for the show. Or could it be that you secretly enjoy watching the chick flicks that you adamantly claimed you hate so much?"

Her smile turned sly as she watched him frowned. Obviously the question had never crossed his mind. "Well… um… I um… You know …"

There went his manly pride first thing in the morning.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

His shoulders slumped forward as his scowl deepened.

She patted him condescendingly on the shoulders. "I know, Ichigo. You just happen to be speechless in the presence of wise ole _me_."

She flashed him a grin as she unhooked herself from his pull and slid off the couch. She heard him muttering angrily as she marched herself into the spacious kitchen, taking out the ingredients she needed from the various cabinets and drawers.

She made little efforts in hiding her smile knowing full well how it irked him to lose a verbal argument.

She took out the sugar and butter first having already preheated the oven. She had barely even started beating the mixture when she heard his _Blackberry_ humming to the tune of _News from the Front._

* * *

><p><em>Blood is a river, flowing darkly amidst the tangled roots of tall shining city<br>_

_Crazy flowing man tide migrations. Engorge the big ventricle of heartbroken America_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

The lazy doctor only decided to pick up the phone after the second ring and by then she had already cracked the first egg open. She shot him a pointed look.

* * *

><p><em>Who's that?<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

_Ishida_, he mouthed, wordlessly reading her mind. She nodded. Her mind was back to the task at hand. She calmly continued her cooking but her curiosity as to why Ishida-san would call him when it's barely 7 in the morning gnawed at her. In the end, she settled for multitasking.

"No, I'm with Rukia."

* * *

><p><em>Crack!<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Down went another egg into the concoction she was mixing.

"Are you freaking shitting me, Ishida?" snarled Ichigo as he stood up abruptly from the couch.

She carefully cast a glance at his direction. Unsurprisingly, she found him pacing the living room in circles; the phone was held against his ear as his face contorted into an ugly look of annoyance and ire. Another hand was running through his shock of entangled tresses; making them wild with spikes.

"No, I don't care if he's the fucking President, Ishida. Damn it, he is _FOS_ and you know it. He's not even in bloody pain. Fine! You want to know what he has! It's called _Neuro-faecal Syndrome_! Get the _Freud Squad_ to get a look at him!"

A sudden pause.

Rukia sighed before she carefully added the chopped walnuts and a teaspoon of vanilla extract.

"So what if he's the biggest donor to the hospital? I don't give a fucking damn about it! He's not my problem! Get the board to do something about that! I'm not the fucking welcoming butt-kissing committee."

It was not a good sign. His outburst, that is.

Rukia rolled her eyes, how could she forget her friend's morning habits.

Ichigo, her caffeine-addicted of a best friend was not a morning person and becomes incredibly surly in the morning without his daily fix, as evidenced by his current behavior.

It was barely morning and he had already lived up to his potty-mouth reputation by sputtering at least 3 swear words.

Taking a short break from her task, she switched on the white-coloured coffee maker.

In the beginning, she could barely stand the sight of the bitter liquid, but now she seemed to have developed an acquired love for the aromatic odour of freshly brewed coffee, and it made her best friend happy.

She shook her head and she went back to her task with her tired smile.

Really, why else would she keep a _Keurig_ _B30 Mini Brewer_?

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Ichigo's pace slowed down, until it finally came to a halt. His eyebrows were still furrowed and he still had a fierce scowl but at least he wasn't running a hand through his hair any more.

Inwardly however, he was raging.

"Fine! But you've said it yourself. I leave the moment Derek steps into that room. I don't care if he's bleeding or if his scalp is split. I'm gone. And that's that!"

XXX

Rukia looked up from her task of greasing the muffin pan just as the phone call ended. She whirled around to face her best friend and offered him a sympathetic smile before returning to her what she was doing.

"I take it that your day has started out quite badly."

Ichigo made his way towards the kitchen counter; his eyes never straying far from the fresh banana muffin batter on it. "_Bad_, would be putting it mildly. The day started out **horrendously**," he grumbled.

She chuckled at his show of dramatic wordplay. "Don't you think you're exaggerating a little too much, _Shakespeare_? I mean, your patient can't be that bad, right?"

He gaped at her, as though she had grown a third head on her shoulders. "Rukia, you obviously haven't met that guy. Because let me tell you, he's around 60, has a fucking pot belly the size of a pregnant woman. And urgh, his face is every mother's nightmare. And that doesn't even justify his behavior, he's a Class A perv. You wouldn't believe the number of nurses who go as white as a ghost when they hear rumours of him checking in."

She snorted. "And you're sure you weren't exaggerating?"

"Seeing is believing, Rukia."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever, _Shakespeare_. Just make yourself useful and help me open the oven door, won't you?"

Shrugging, he gave a casual nod before striding towards the oven and with a swift push, revealed the preheated oven tray within.

With practiced ease, she carefully slid her muffin pan into the oven before adjusting the timer to go off 17 minutes later.

"Thanks," she said as she undid the Chappy apron she had on before turning to address her best friend. "But aren't you supposed to be going somewhere?"

Ichigo shrugged. "I'll rather take my time. The fact that they didn't page me and had actually contacted me via Ishida and cell phone implies that this is not an emergency. No need to panic or hurry."

He sighed. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with that old guy anyway, his tendency to touch the nurses inappropriately aside. He's just so damn convinced that he's got _Serotonin_, which I have, no fucking idea why. This is the 5th time in the month that he's checked in, demanding that _I _do something about him!"

It was then when he noticed her sly smile and the crafty gleam in her eyes. He narrowed his eyes. "Just what's going on in that head of yours now, Rukia?"

"Tsk, tsk," she tutted, as if she was chastising a little boy for bad behavior. "Ichigo, is that how you treat an admirer?"

XXX

She took personal glee and gratification in watching his face turn putrid green, pale and finally settled on fire-engine red.

"**WHAT the hell**, Rukia! That's just plain sick! I can't believe you just said that. He may be a Class A pervert but I'm 99%, no scratch that 200% sure that he doesn't swing the other way. Don't you think that I would've noticed that if he um… likes men?"

She gave him a skeptical glance, a smirk on her lips. "Uh-huh. And this is coming from the guy who had no clue whatsoever that Orihime Inoue had a crush on him for 2 years? Wow, that's _rich_!"

She laughed as his face turned ashen and his shoulders turned tense. She offered him the wooden spoon, sticky with the muffin batter. "Deal with it, strawberry-head. Because that's the **TRUTH**!"

XXX

He groaned, snatching the spoon rudely from her grasp. He turned the spoon several times around before noticing her patronizing grin. Scowling at her, he took a tentative lick from the spoon. She laughed.

He looked like a petulant child with that stance and look on his face. He would've made such an adorable-looking kid though, minus the perpetual scowl. She mentally drew a portrait of him as a 5 year-old wearing a baseball cap, untied shoelaces on his sneakers and holding onto his raibow-coloured lollipop like a lifeline.

XXX

"Yo, earth to Rukia," came Ichigo's voice as he waved his hand annoyingly in front of her.

She swatted his hand away, wrinkling her nose as she did. "Ichigo, get your hand out of my face before I wallop you!"

He gave her a lazy smirk. "I'll like to see you try." She gave him a dirty look and he promptly changed his mind. "But, unlike a certain _jobless_ person, I happen to have surgeries to perform, lives to save and-"

"Fat, gay millionaires to entertain?" she finished.

He curled his lips into a frown. "That was low, Rukia. Real low."

Rukia laughed. "Awww… Did I hurt the doctor's feelings?"

He rolled his eyes, making a rude grunt as he did. "Shut up!" countered the doctor _intelligently_ as he opened the kitchen cabinet to his right and took out an orange mug.

Mug in hand, he then proceeded to pour himself a generous amount of the steaming liquid, grimacing slightly at the bitter taste of coffee, but silently thankful for Rukia's forethought of brewing his personal 'elixir of life' wordlessly.

He needed it, the acquired aftereffects of his daily brawl-routine/rough wake-up call by his father in his teenaged days. Straightening his arms, he took note of the 'pop' sound with mild satisfaction, slowly loosening the kinks on his body as a result of his bad sleeping posture.

He grimaced at the numb, paralyzing feel on his left arm as he did. Oh the joy of being your best friend's pillow. The scowl on his face deepened as he finished the coffee in a gulp.

* * *

><p><em>Time for work.<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

"Rukia, did I leave any clean shirts here?" he asked whilst yawning.

Rukia raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with the one you're wearing right now?"

"You mean besides the fact that you've drooled on it? No reason."

A scowl appeared on her lips. "It's in the guestroom. Second drawer to your right."

Her best friend was already out of her sight before she even finished her sentence. Her sensitive ears vaguely caught the 'click' of the bathroom door and the gurgling of running tap water. She frowned, the idiot better remember to close the toothpaste cap this time.

* * *

><p><em>Beep! Beep! Beep!<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

The timer on her electronic oven went off. The pint-sized baker managed to grab the muffin pan and laid them out on the breakfast bar to cool just as Ichigo came out from the bathroom. By then, he was sporting his favourite tee with the printed message of 'Nice Vibes' and a new pair of low-rise jeans.

"How did my favourite shirt get here? I've been ransacking my apartment for this!" he asked in amazement.

She shrugged apathetically. "Well, _Sherlock_, you must have left it here because contrary to what you may believe, shirts do not walk or possess a mind of their own."

He opened his mouth to retort but clamped it shut before the first syllable of the sentence was even uttered; instead he calmly crossed over to the kitchen counter in less than 4 strides.

And while Rukia wasn't paying attention to his straying hands, he quickly scooped up two of the beautiful caramel-crusted muffins. He inhaled the mouth-watering fragrance in a dream-like trance before taking a bite from each muffin alternately.

She smiled at his antics. "Pig," she teased.

"Shut up," he said in between bites, "'sides, you have muffin crumbs in your hair. So I think that makes you worse."

Rukia whirled around, her delicate hands going straight for her mussed ebony locks; movements frantic as she attempted to dust off any crumbs present. Satisfied that no golden crumbs fell from her hair, she turned to face her best friends angrily.

"You liar! There's _nothing_ in my hair!"

XXX

He smirked, taking a step closer to her as he leaned forward. Rukia had remained blissfully unaware of their close proximity until she found herself staring into his beautiful brown eyes.

She gulped nervously. For some sick reason, her heart was going crazy, hammering non-stop against her ribcage.

And there was that silly fluttering in her stomach as the distance between them decreased.

His lips were just inches from hers. But she was just rooted on the spot, unable to speak and much less move. Her breath hitched as she squeezed her eyes shut when his mouth descended on her.

Something slippery and wet connected with her skin.

The petite authoress kept her eyes shut, reluctant to look.

But the sensation of skin against skin spread across her senses like a swarm of ants, inspiring sparks of electricity to go haywire in her system, making her feel things that she wish she hadn't notice.

She couldn't help but frown.

It was cool, slimy and slightly disgusting and on her… **forehead**?

* * *

><p><em>What the hell!<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Opening her eyes, she was quickly greeted by the sight of a smug-looking Ichigo with muffin crumbs adorning his lips and chin while shooting her an amused look. She fumed, resisting the urge to flip him the 'bird'.

Did he have any idea how he came _this_ close to causing her a heart attack?

"Looks like you do have crumbs in your hair after all," he said holding up his third muffin of the day against his wide open mouth.

Rukia shot him a bewildered look while her hands went automatically to her forehead and the stray bang that seemed to lie perpetually against it.

Sure enough, clean fingers came in contact with the infamous golden crumbs.

"**ICHIGO**!"

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

So he has a rather OOC playful side, other than that; a typical Ichiruki morning for our favourite carrot-top and midget. Hehe, not to mention; my favourite chapter so far. Hope Ichigo wasn't too OOC for you guys.

And yes, I know Ishida is supposed to be Uryu's surname. If we're really in an English speaking society, Ichigo would've called him 'Uryu' instead of 'Ishida', but let's just say I find it really weird…

_Doctors' Slang, Courtesy of various TV shows dealing with life as a surgeon:_

1) **FOS**- full of shit (literally and figuratively speaking)

2) **Neuro-faecal Syndrome**- shit for brains

3) **Freud Squad**- psychiatrists

4) **Serotonin**- short for _Serotonin Syndrome _(a potentially life-threatening adverse drug reaction that may occur following therapeutic drug use, also called Serotonin Storm, hyperserotonemia, or serotonergic syndrome)

And yes, needless to say all the mentioned TV-shows and movies are my absolute favourites.

Next chapter: It's time for a tour in the hospital…

* * *

><p><em><strong>SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT! <strong>_

PPS. YES! Guys have you read chapter 459! Rukia's back! :D

And because of that, I'm releasing chapter 4 of 'My Platonic Reasons' within the month! 8D

Gah! Rukia~ You're back! Ichigo misses you! As do I. ;P


	5. Chapter 4: Of Women and Jackets

**Chapter 4: Of Women and Jackets**

_~Ichigo~_

* * *

><p>He hated lying to her because:<p>

A) He hated liars and hypocrites as much as he hated the '_Don Kanonji Show_'.

B) Friends, best friends especially just don't lie to each other. Period.

C) It was a waste of efforts anyway. She knew him too well. One twitch of his lips, one flinch upon contact and she would've known he was lying.

But still, an occasional white lie or two never hurts, right?

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>:_Hey, Rukia_.

**Mugetsu15: **_Come on, midget. I am sorry…_

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>: '_Sorry' doesn't cut it! Berry! Start prepping yourself for takeouts!_

* * *

><p>…<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>:_ Rukia._

**Mugetsu15**: _Rukiaaa._

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Doctor Ichigo Kurosaki (aka Mugetsu15) was currently waiting in the on-call room with his Blackberry completely enveloped within his right palm. He tapped his finger against his chin as he reclined against the plush cushion, soft brown eyes never leaving the tiny _Blackberry_ screen.

He sighed. So maybe it was his fault for leaving a mess on her coffee table before he went out, but seriously what did she expect?

He was paged while he was in the middle of enjoying a 'cheesy' make out session with some nachos and chips.

It was either the nachos or a human life; something's going to have to give. And it's definitely not the human life that's doing the 'giving'!

Heck, she should even be grateful for his decisiveness or an innocent human life would have ended on her behalf.

The cause of death: because the doctor couldn't arrive on time.

Why?

Because he was too busy cleaning up his best friend's coffee table.

Nuh-uh. That does **NOT** look good on the medical report, death certificate and certainly not on his recommendation letters. He doubted that she would sleep well at night knowing that someone had died indirectly because of her actions.

Because he was following Rukia's order and actually cleaning up the mess- he was late- And because he was late- someone died

It's a chain-reaction thing. You following so far?

But still, that doesn't exactly justify his actions. He could have joined Uryu and the others who always eat lunch in the canteen or via vending machine.

He ran a hand through his tousled orange locks before taking in deep breath.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>: _I'm sorry._

**Mugetsu15**: _I'm sorry._

**Mugetsu15**:_ I'm sorry._

* * *

><p>…<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>: _Rukia. What do I have to do to make it up to you?_

* * *

><p>…<p>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He sighed as his lips curled into a look of defeat. There was still no reply from his best friend.

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>:_ I'll do anything you want!_

* * *

><p>He kept his eyes on the clock. Fingers twiddling somewhat nervously as he waited for her reply. It took her exactly 4 minutes 57 seconds to do that.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>: _Anything?_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He gulped. There was that spine-tingling feeling crawling all over him right now. It made his hair stand and gave him goosebumps.

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>: _Within certain reasons…_

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>:_ I just saw the most gorgeous pair of _Vivienne Westwood_ stilettos yesterday. I wonder if…_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

His fingers were shaking slightly as he typed his reply. Considering the average price of a pair of _Vivienne Westwood_, his face paled as the gravity of the figures finally rested their weight on his shoulders. There went his new _Armani _loafers.

But, he bit his tongue, it was necessary; he reminded himself that their sacrifice was not in vain. The consequences of him not following her 'demands' were a hell lot worse than losing a pair of loafers.

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>:_ Ok._

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>:_ That's so nice of you, Ichigo. :D_

**SnowWhite_Chappy**:_ Now about that life size Chappy doll I saw…_

* * *

><p>He cringed. How she could incorporate that sick, sugary act of hers through the phone lines and internet and still manage to make his eyebrow twitch was beyond him.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>:_ It's yours! Take it!_

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>: _Oh, Ichigo; you shouldn't…_

**SnowWhite_Chappy**:_ But I accept._

**SnowWhite_Chappy**:_ I'm also thinking about that red silk halter top I saw at _Versace_'s…_

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>:_ Rukia, as much as I hate to burst your little bubble._

**Mugetsu15**:_ I am NOT a millionaire, so can we please just skip to the part where you decide to forgive me before my wallet bleeds to death._

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>:_ I was going to ask if red is a good colour for me…_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He scowled. His fingers began to tighten uncharacteristically on the arm-rest as he dug them into the soft flesh of the plushy cushion. Rukia and her little games. Jeez, would it kill her to _not_ have the last word?

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>: _Fine but that black and mauve cocktail dress looks better._

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>: _But you said I need to have more colour in my wardrobe._

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He bit his tongue.

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>: _Nevermind. So…_

**Mugetsu15**: _Does that mean I'm forgiven?_

* * *

><p>…<p>

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>: _Do you really need to ask?_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He mentally heaved a sigh of relief. A tiny, almost non-existent smile curled upon his lips, but he quickly wiped it from existence. The man had a reputation to up hold.

He's _the_ Ichigo Kurosaki or Kurosaki Ichigo if you're Oriental and into the whole 'surname-in-front-of-given-names' thing; the half part brilliant, half part brazen, overall badass doc with an attitude, complete with the must-have permanent scowl.

They, meaning the hospital staffs in _Seattle Grace Mercy West_ who have known him since his internship three years ago; would never let him live it down if they ever found him smiling at his _Blackberry_ screen in the on-call room.

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>: _So how's the job hunt going?_

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>: _Honestly; not so good. The minute everyone hears the name 'Rukia Kuchiki', they go crazy. _

**SnowWhite_Chappy**: _One guy even got down on one knee for me and professed his undying love for me._

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>: _Who's the idiot?_

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>: _Kon_ _Luosdom._

**SnowWhite_Chappy**: _Oops, probably shouldn't have told you that…_

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>:_ Why not?_

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>:_ Who knows what you are going to do to him!_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

The doctor bristled; why does she always automatically assume that he's out to do some bodily harm to everybody? Can't she at least be more sensible? He's a doctor now; not his younger college self who rushes into situations faster than anyone could blink.

Well, he's a somewhat reformed version of his college self but hey at least he doesn't shove a punch down the nearest pervert's face anymore.

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>: _Nothing._

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>:_ You mean 'nothing' short of making him piss in his pants & losing your job? o.O_

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>:_ Of course not! Like I would want to lose my job over you!_

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>: _I wouldn't want that either. So don't worry about it. _

**SnowWhite_Chappy**: _He's just a fan. No big deal._

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

It was a wonder he didn't book an appointment for her with the nearest psychiatrist available in his vicinity which in this case happened to be Uryu Ishida.

_Just another fan? _

Well, Chapman used to be 'just another fan'. Look what he did to _John Lennon_! As her best friend, there was no way he was going to let her take that risk.

Nope, the first thing he's going to do when his shift ends would be to find Chad and have the stocky Mexican P.I. run a background check on that guy.

For crying out loud, who in the world has a surname called 'Luosdom'?

This reeked fishiness. Who knows if he's some sort of wanted fugitive or psychopath in some unheard-of country!

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>: _Don't go around asking for Chad to do a background check on him, Ichigo. I mean it!_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He swore vehemently under his breath. How did she do that?

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>: _Fine._

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>: _:D_

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>: _Rukia, can you do me a favour?_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Delicate fingers stilled on the keyboard as she read the sentence repeatedly in her mind. She took in a deep breath, ready for whatever wild chases and crazy pleas he might have as she typed in her reply.

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>: _Sure, as long as it doesn't involve murder._

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>: _I got this patient named Yoruichi Shihoin. _

_**Mugetsu15**: left her jacket here._

**Mugetsu15**: _I have her name card and I was going to return her stuff but I'm stuck on shift, so …_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

A distinct frown on her lips as she mulled over his so-called favour. In all the years they've known each other, he had never thrown in an explanation for a favour. Maybe she was overreacting, but normally Ichigo wouldn't have bothered to call it a favour.

He'll just ask, her to take it to the patient. And she'll be the one asking 'why'; he never volunteered giving explanations. Whoever this Shihoin lady is; she must be pretty important to him.

And that thought, that silly notion of his new patient being important to him just caused something surprisingly painful to erupt in her chest, like a sharp sting that settled on there and wouldn't let go. It's not like he's saying that this Shihoin lady was his 'new best friend'.

She snorted. That would have been so juvenile, childish; and well, let's face it either of them are growing any younger.

But still, the thought of him implying that his patient was more important to him than she was; just hurt.

Period.

She gave herself a whole minute to compose herself but felt oddly numb and cold as she typed in her next reply.

* * *

><p><em>Just what in the world was wrong with her?<em>

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>: _Personal delivery? _

**SnowWhite_Chappy**: _This Shihoin lady must be pretty special to you._

* * *

><p><em>Special?<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He snorted. That doesn't even describe that woman.

Oh she was a modern-day high society _lady_ alright if her old money inheritance and her identity as the Shihoin heiress was any indication, but her behavior would never have given you the time to entertain the thought.

To put it _mildly_, Yoruichi Shihoin had no qualms for modesty at all.

With her mocha tanned skin and gleaming golden flecks for eyes, she was a seductively exotic creature with the figure of a runway supermodel.

Tight, revealing clothes were casually worn like a second skin, bare and naked skin flaunted in the open air without care and did he mention that she **loved** shopping.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

_With a fierce scowl and a dozen or so heavily loaded shopping bags from several high-end designer stores, it was evident as Ichigo Kurosaki emerged from the _Versace_ outlet, trailing behind a certain voluptuous beauty, that he was less than pleased with the shopping 'expedition'._

_ Trudging grudgingly while mumbling, he had his eyes glued to the front; glaring daggers at the woman and eying her angrily as she sashayed seductively through the mob. Her purplish-black ponytail was swinging to the tempo of her lithe figure as she maneuvered both of them through the crowd._

_ Her tight leather capris and sleeveless black halter top complimented her figure wonderfully with those gravity-defying killer stilettos. Unsurprisingly, it earned her several appreciative looks and whistles along the way. _

_ He clenched his jaw as the scowl intensified. A bead of sweat dripped from his brow as he shifted the weight of the heavy purchases as best as he could. He was only doing it for Rukia. That's right. He bit the tip of his tongue. _

Remember the consequences, think of Rukia.

_ Another few more minutes to go and the ordeal ends, he gets to go home while Rukia gets a new job._

Deep breaths, inhale, exhale_; he told himself as he took up the breathing exercises._

XXX

_ The coffee mocha-tanned beauty in front of him merely rolled her eyes. "Will you please stop doing that? You're acting like a freaking pregnant cow ready to give birth."_

_ His eyebrow twitched. 'Pregnant cow'? Try 'pissed-off-as-hell bull'! "Maybe it will help if you would be so _kind_ as to carry some of your own bags." He gritted through his clenched jaw._

_ She scoffed. "As if! Why else did you think I accepted the Kisuke's offer any way? I needed a guy to help me carry my goods and you need a job. It's a good deal and," she smirked. "-it spares me from going through interviewing the candidates."_

_ "Okay, let's get this straight. First of all, _**I DO NOT**_ need a job. My friend, Rukia does," came his snarky reply as they got into the elevator. He grimaced as he saw the amount of people crammed inside the metal contraption; shooting another pointed glare at the calm and confident-looking Yoruichi standing beside him who was busy attending to her painted fingernails._

_ "Details," came her lazy drawl as they traveled upwards. "Anyway, if your friend needs a job as bad as you said she does, why didn't she apply for the job herself? '_Meow Meow!_' is like the _Ferrari_ of high-end fashion magazines. We've had several world-renowned authors applying for a job position over the years. How is this 'Rukia' of yours any different? "_

_ "Because she's not supposed to know."_

XXX

_She raised an eyebrow; her attention piqued as her tore her eyes away from the sight of her fingernails. "What exactly do you mean 'she's not supposed to know'?"_

_ He sighed, using a free hand to run through his tousled orange locks before answering "Rukia is a very _**proud**_ person. And no, I don't mean to say that she's _**vain**_; there's a difference between those two; but rather she," he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly._

_ "-she takes pride in a lot of things. She takes pride in her work, her family name, her abilities. And that's why she would never have accepted the job if I recommended it to her or personally took it upon myself to secure the job for her, especially if she thinks I'm doing this out of pity. She hates being anyone's charity case."_

XXX

_ He sighed. "And that's why, she must never know." _

_ He gave her a pointed look "Promise me you won't tell her about this."_

_ She pondered over his statement before asking. "But isn't this," she glanced at the hefty bags around her, "a tad bit too _hypocritical_? I mean the only reason you're doing this is because you want to help her but isn't this helpful gesture an indirect way of saying you doubt her abilities? You doubt her pride in her friends. You doubt her capacity in accepting a gift from her friend."_

_ He growled. "I _**trust**_ Rukia with my life. The only reason I'm doing this is because I also know she hates changes. She's just too…," he struggled to find the right word. _

_ "Too rigid and well, she's not a gambler. If she stands at a crossroad and there happened to be two roads: one a new paved path and the other the worn path she always takes, she'll always stick to the old one; no matter how uneven the road is and how bad it had deteriorated, she would stick to it." _

_ He took a deep breath before continuing in the same manner."It's the same thing with her job. She's so well-known in her own line of work that everyone either blatantly ignores her or just plain worships her; she'll never get another job if she does it her way." _

XXX

_The doctor turned to give a meaningful glance at Yoruichi before finishing. "She's smart but sometimes she just thinks too much. She's less likely to reject new ideas if they smack her right in the face. If you give her time to sort out her thoughts, she'll eventually just draw out too many scenes in that midget little head that by some bizarre, macabre fashion just convinces her that the old way is the best way."_

_ Yoruichi stood perfectly aloof beside him, giving no indication at all whether she had listened to him. _

_He shrugged. It didn't matter any way. Her opinion of his actions meant zilch to him. The pair rode in absolute silence for the rest of the journey._

XXX

_ It was only when they finally exited the elevator and managed to load all the expensive items in the trunk of Yoruichi's ocean blue _Porsche_, that she broke the overwhelming silence. _

_ Rummaging her way through the assortment of shopping bags, she finally broke into a grin when she managed to find a denim jacket. With the jacket at hand, she sauntered up to Ichigo, beckoning him to hold out his hands before depositing the said garment in his hands. _

_ He raised an eyebrow, evidently surprised by the sudden gesture. _

_ "It's for Rukia, you dolt." She answered before he had the chance of even opening his mouth. "You probably hadn't thought about how you're supposed to convince her to go to _Meow Meow!_ HQ, did you?"_

_ She took his involuntary action of rubbing the back of his neck as 'yes' and quickly flashed him another Cheshire grin. _

_ "Thought so. And you might need this," she calmly fished out one of her name cards from her pocket and handed it to him. "Tell her that I'm your patient and I left my jacket there. Give her my name card and ask her to return it to the office. I'll take care of things once she gets there."_

_ He didn't know for how long he just stood there with a mixture of shock and gratitude before he finally managed to croak out, "Thank you." _

_ Nodding, she nimbly climbed into the driver seat, sparing him only a mild glance as she sped off._

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

To that extent, Yoruichi Shihoin was actually a great help. And now all that's left was to convince Rukia to accept and carry out the 'favour'.

She didn't disappoint.

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>: _Fine_.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He unwittingly released a breath he had been holding.

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>: _Thanks, Rukia. Where are you now?_

* * *

><p><strong>SnowWhite_Chappy<strong>: _Just a few blocks away from Grace. Be there in 20?_

* * *

><p><strong>Mugetsu15<strong>: _Deal_.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He quickly closed the application on his Smartphone, switched the device off and peeled himself from the lumpy couch. He stretched, popping his knuckles before he grabbed the denim jacket and made his way out of the room.

Rukia had always been extremely punctual and became thoroughly annoyed when others did not arrive on time.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He waited for her outside the hospital.

The distant rumble of thunder was heard as the wind grew stronger. Around him, people were glancing warily at the grey overcast as they hurried to their own destinations as fast as possible. He tucked his hands into his white coat pockets and resumed his leisure pacing; brown eyes scanning the crowd vigilantly.

Ichigo frowned. It was definitely going to rain soon. Summers in Seattle are anything but sunny.

It rains, it pours and it never stops.

The pacing dandelion-head immediately caught sight of his best friend as she arrived. Funny enough, his heart started racing.

His mouth went dry and there's that uncomfortable feeling of bugs stirring in the pit of his stomach. Today, she had worn a lavender-toned baby-doll dress that showcased the beautiful legs on her petite body and paired it off with a black trench coat. Her usual black pumps were replaced by a pair of white calf-high stiletto boots. Her casually sophisticated look completed with a beige-coloured totem bag.

Her big lilac-hued eyes were peering untrustingly towards the gloomy sky, ready to reach into her bag and pull out her limited edition pink Chappy umbrella should it so much as drizzle.

The doctor smirked. It was evident that his best friend was less than pleased by the approaching storm.

Knowing her, she probably couldn't wait for autumn and winter- her two favourite seasons, to set in.

It was no big secret that the heiress hated summer and rainy days with a vengeance. The doctor recalled the time when they went to California for vacation and fought hard to hide his amusement.

The little authoress had complained day in, day out about the sizzling temperature, opting to instead escape to the beach during the heated season, under the protection of her trusty friend, Mr. Sunblock of course or simply stay indoors with the air conditioners on 24/7- not very environmental friendly at all- which was probably why she had the palest and creamiest alabaster skin he had ever seen.

XXX

It was therefore ironic, that he thought that the afternoon sun brought out the woman in Rukia Kuchiki. In his humble opinion, summer holidays and afternoons with a sizzling hot temperature always brought out the best of her feminine beauty.

During their vacation, the beach became their second temporary residence. Rukia wore wear flowing, loose sun dresses; tie her hair into a sloppy ponytail with a colourful bandana or foulard and wore none of those hideous high heels she adored to death; opting instead for plain flip flops as they walked on the sandy shores of the beach, stopping only for the occasional ice-cream; because she claimed, and he quoted 'that the weather was too damn hot for anyone to be acting pretty'.

Well, he personally begged to differ because he thought that she was the prettiest when she didn't bother to dress up. The glaring sun and the high temperature brought out the best of her; it depicted her natural beauty and grace without any inhibitions or restrains.

Under the hot sun, Rukia isn't the untouchable ice statue of a Kuchiki princess- emotionless and aloof.

She's just human.

Hot, sweaty, and just a tad bit, to do his best friend justice, sexy.

Besides, his best friend wasn't just 'acting' pretty. Rukia Kuchiki was plain beautiful to begin with.

Inside and out.

* * *

><p><em>Even if the little midget of an heiress can be a pain at times.<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

"Ichigo, are you okay?"

He snapped out of his reverie just in time to see the said noblewoman standing in front of him. Her hands were on her hips as she regarded him with concern. He cleared his throat loudly; slightly uncomfortable with the look she was giving him and his previous train of thoughts.

Thank God, human beings can't read minds. Just imagine the awkwardness between him and Rukia if they could.

XXX

Ichigo held out the jacket and name card to her. "I'm fine," he answered with a pococurante front. The jobless authoress nodded somewhat absent-mindedly with her attention focused solely on the address on the name card.

"Well, her office didn't seem to be too far from here," she mumbled as she pocketed the card into her hand bag. "Join me for lunch later?"

He sighed. "Sorry I can't. There's a surgery and I'm going to have to be in there with Derek and the others."

She shrugged. "It's okay. I understand." A small smile curving at the lips before she promptly turned around and started walking, he stood there, hands in the pockets as she took her leave; content by just the sight of her retreating figure vanishing swiftly and safely from his line of vision.

Rukia had scarcely made 10 steps away from him before she suddenly whirled around and met his gaze.

XXX

"Ichigo?"

He raised his eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Biting her lips, she hesitated before drawing in a deep breath. And then in a calm voice she said, "I just want you to know that I approve of her."

"What?" he asked. He frowned. What exactly did the midget approved of? As far as he's concerned, he never needed her approval in anything.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm talking about Yoruichi Shihoin, space cadet."

He grew even more puzzled. "Why would sheneed your approval? It's not like we're da- Oh."

The pointed look on her face finally made the last puzzle fit into place as realization dawned upon him on what his best friend was implying.

XXX

He couldn't help but roll his eyes and scoff at her _brilliant_ deductions.

"Yoruichi and I are _not_ dating," he said in a firm but soft tone.

"But then why did you… why did she… the jacket and… acting weird…" The rest of her mumblings trailed away as he gently walked over to her and lifted her chin up; tilting her heart-shaped face towards his gaze.

A soft pair of butterscotches was all it took to melt away the hardening layer of doubt in the glinting onyxes.

He sighed, tucking her signature stray bang behind her ear.

XXX

"Rukia," he began; his voice as soft and as lulling as the autumn zephyr. "Yoruichi is a friend," he frowned and then added "Scratch that, make her an associate of an associate. But you?"

He stared deep into her enigmatic cerulean blues before sighing. "You are my best friend, my _nakama_," he continued in the same tone, never once shirking away from her gaze.

"And as Cristina would have said, you're _my_ person."

He chuckled.

"How can anybody in the world, no in the entire universe compete with that?"

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Despite her best guarded expression and the years of drama acting she had been subjected to in the Kuchiki household, she couldn't help but feel the corners of her lips twitching upwards with that statement. Her best friend can be so sweet at times.

How exactly was she supposed to steel her heart and not feel touched by such an honest and sweet statement?

And more importantly, how exactly was anyone going to come up with an answer for that?

Being the innovative heiress that she was, Rukia settled for whacking him lightly on the chest. Instinctively, the resident doctor flinched upon contact, yelping slightly as the force of impact knocked against his chest.

He scowled, jumping away from her as he did.

XXX

"What the heck was that for, midget?"

She rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "For being an idiot."

XXX

Sniffing haughtily, she made a dramatic show of turning her heels and marching confidently towards the opposite direction as she walked away. The familiar click-clacks of her boots however paused as soon as she was out from his line of vision.

Turning the suspicious jacket around, she gave it a thorough examination; ignoring the curious stares coming from several passer-bys.

There was a comical '_Aha!_' moment for her when she finally found what she was looking for.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Smirking, it took all of her willpower not to just throw her head back and guffaw as she continued her journey. Some would say that she was glowing; her body was just shining like the perfect beacon of happiness.

Well, she shrugged; she had her best friend to thank for that. Her heart was so light and free that her body felt practically weightless as she sashayed her way towards her car; a big ear-to-ear grin plastered on her lips that was so wide and beamish that it made her cheeks hurt.

XXX

That _baka_ forgot to cut off the price tag!

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

:P Aren't they just adorable? They understand each other perfectly, don't you think?

And yes about the Smartphone, I know that they're not actually supposed to bring or use phones in a hospital so as to not interfere with the gadgets and instruments but apparently some hospitals are already quite okay with the idea of their staffs bringing phones so for now let's just pretend that Grace is one of them, 'kay?

I just couldn't resist '_my person_'. XD

She's my person. If I murdered someone, she's the person I'd call to help me drag the corpse across the living room floor. She's my person. – Dr. Cristina Yang

Next chapter: Uryu combines sexual innuendos with… something entirely different? O.O

_Damn that Kurosaki and his libido._

_And his inability to keep quiet._

PS. And if you hadn't noticed **Kon Luosdom** yet… XD


	6. Chapter 5: Painting Innuendos

**Chapter 5: Painting Innuendos**

_~Rukia~_

* * *

><p>Damn him for thinking he could have a say in the wall colours just because:<p>

A) He claimed to be her best friend.

B) He's the only guest in her house who actually slept in her guestroom.

C) He hated Chappy and pink. 'Pink'? Can you imagine! The nerve of that orange-headed buffoon!

Wait; what's going on with Ishida-san?

... Never mind.

* * *

><p><em>Ding!<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Expensive Italian-made loafers stepped out of the elevator in _La Belle _as the double panels slid open. Obsidian beads darted instinctively to the wristwatch on his left hand as Uryu Ishida emerged solitarily; cool and composed as ever while wearing an immaculately ironed button-up and a pair of grey slacks.

A sealed package held close to his chest as he strode calmly away. The shoes tapped against the parquet flooring rhythmically as the bespectacled raven-head took measured and precisely-timed steps across the hall.

His eyes swept across the hall, and with a keen, observant nature; he was quick to take note of the various elaborative symmetrical ornamentations decorating the plush six story condominium building.

From the mosaic-like parquet flooring under his feet to the burgundy linen draperies that found themselves adorning the large window overlooking the parks and streets, there was little doubt that _La Belle _had lived up to its reputation; offering occupants and visitors alike, the distinct blend of the old Baroque grandeur and of modern chic elegance.

Keeping a brisk, but unhurried pace, he walked on, having satisfied himself already with the admiring minute details and craftsmanship involved. He busied himself with the task of finding his client's unit as he navigated his way through the labyrinth of lavishly designed hallways.

With every step he took, he hugged in turn, the package tighter against his chest. He was on a special delivery service today and inside the package was a little cocktail dress.

Styled with Victorian-style black and cream color combinations, the bodice of the short dress was made from chiffon while layers after layers of the flowing tulle tiers added volume to the skirt.

Figure hugging lace trimmed the waist, neckline and shoulder straps of the smocked ivory-hued bodice with the ending, a little above the knees. It made all the hidden feminine curves apparent and evident underneath that sinful design.

Being both a part-time tailor with a guaranteed client-satisfactory reputation and an attentive psychiatrist working at the _Seattle Grace Mercy West_, Uryu Ishida had an uncanny ability of 'reading' people. He could tell what their preferences were, how they behaved, what their choice of apparels were and sometimes during the process, he could even dig out their darkest and best kept secrets.

It was this ability coupled with the years he had spent befriending and tailoring the clothes this particular client and future owner of one of his best creations yet, that gave him all the assurance he would ever need regarding her interest in the dress sealed inside the package he held.

He had no doubts at all that Rukia Kuchiki would love his flawless design. His two-month labour and the sleepless nights he spent on finishing it will not be in vain. Taking a swift turn to his left, room 0211 came into view.

XXX

He stopped. Intimidating oaken double panels stood before him as he reached his destination. Shifting the package, he was just about to push the door bell when he couldn't help but overhear something coming from behind the doors. He strained his ears; pressing himself against the door as the muffling grew louder and soon became audible as a conversation.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

_You're doing it all wrong, Rukia!_

_Shut up, strawberry! You're not the one _**stretching**_ yourself beyond the human body limit!_

_Well it's not easy for me either, you witch! With your _**tight**_ s–_

_Don't you dare finish that sentence, Ichigo! I demand we take a break from these _**strenuous**_ activities you seemed to _**enjoy**_ so much!_

_Fine then. We'll take five._

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

The psychiatrist almost dropped his parcel. W-what exactly were the two doing?

Could it really be …

He leaned in closer.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

_God, my body's so _**sore**_ and worn out; I can't even lift a finger. But my _**walls**_ aren't even _**pink**_ yet! Ichigo, this is all your fault!_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Uryu turned red. Dear god, must they be so graphical?

And Rukia-san, who would have thought that she would be so explicit and um… _hardcore_?

Dr. Ishida adjusted the lenses sitting on the bridge of his nose. His thoughts trailed off, leaving his face alternating between a shade of green and white as he resisted the urge to simply bolt and run off to the same direction where he came from. He always thought Orihime-san was being too imaginative in saying that there was something going on between Kurosaki and Rukia-san.

He shuddered. Well, he stood corrected. There _is_ definitely something going on between those two.

Something loud, extremely non-platonic and ends with '-ex'.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

_Oi! Don't go blaming everything on me, you sadistic midget! As I recall, you were the ones who talked us into _**it**_ in the first place!_

_So now you're accusing me of _**pressuring**_?_

_Well, you were the one who brought _**it**_ up!_

_I thought we'd enjoyed doing _**it**_ together!_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He winced as a loud and sure to be, _violent_ scene interjected the conversation. He referred to the wristwatch, noting a pause of at least 10 minutes of unintelligent mumbling and the occasional curse or insult before silence was broken. He shuddered at the scenes going through his mind.

Uryu readjusted his lenses. He was never **ever** going to look at them the same way ever again.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

_Okay, fun's over. Come on, on your feet! _

_Ichigo, we just did _**it**_ minutes ago! I'm still tired._

_Well a few minutes ago, you were all about to pull off my hair and threatened to actually _**punish**_ me so painfully that I'll _**beg**_ you to stop if we didn't finish _**it**_ on time! _

_Ichigo! Stop it! It _**hurts**_. ICHIGO!_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Outside, Uryu visibly paled. The knuckles were clenched so tight that they appeared colourless as a wave of boiling rage seared and fizzled ran through his veins. He was trained since young to obey a certain code of honour among men. He made it his point to be chivalrous and assist anyone, especially poor, defenseless women in distress.

Damn that Kurosaki and his libido.

And his inability to keep quiet.

A determined gleam entered his eyes. This was all Kurosaki's fault, he thought angrily. Quickly surmising the situation, he assumed the best plan of 'rescue' was to first break down the heavy oak doors in front of him.

Looking at the intimidating size of the door, he couldn't help but gulp. It would also probably take him a few hard throws before the door would even budge by an inch. And it was definitely going to leave stains on his clothes and bruises on him.

But for Rukia-san's sake, he steeled himself to be brave and stared the obstacle down with his obsidian specks.

He just absolutely had to save poor, defenseless Rukia-san from the terrible Kurosaki ogre.

Popping the knuckles and doing a light stretch, Uryu took in a deep breath as he focused his attention on the looming task. Cradling the package protectively against his chest, he threw himself against the wooden door; slamming his full weight against it.

* * *

><p><em>Crash!<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Now, Uryu Ishida was by all means a practical man.

And upon his first decision to break the door down, there had to be at least tens of thousands of possibilities and outcomes going through his mind.

Among these carefully formulated plans and workings, he had not however, expected at first try to find the door unlock and slightly ajar.

So imagine his surprise when he found the doors swinging open unresistingly to his strong push…

And his embarrassment as he found himself lying prostrate on the wooden flooring with two pairs of eyes staring unabashedly at him.

XXX

"Ishida-san? What are you doing down there?" asked Rukia curiously.

The question effectively knocked him out of his embarrassment-induced state. Recovering to his senses, he immediately picked himself up, ready to save her from the clutches of evil itself, but of course that was before he saw the layers of newspapers and buckets filled with paint covering the floor tiles in the empty guestroom.

A ladder was propped up by the sides while the left side of the guestroom wall was coated with pink but the other side remained stark white- the original wall colour. He glanced around him.

Unsurprisingly, all the furniture that used to belong in the guestroom were moved and spread out in the living room. To his right, there was a plain single bed with the nightstand beside it while the antique armoire was laid next to it.

He gulped and finally forced himself to look at the pair. He had fully-expected them to be frantically disentangling from each other and scrambling for abandoned clothing. But of course as with what had happened to his earlier 'deductions', instead of two individuals, naked as the day they were born scrambling for clothes, he was greeted by the sight of fully-clothed man and woman who wore additional white aprons that had dirty blotches of pink stain.

Kurosaki stood tall and surprised; his fingers were pinching or rather pulling Rukia-san's rosy cheeks. Both of them turned to stare at him; wearing a mask of utter amazement and shock.

Two and two made four.

Uryu had immediately opened his mouth to speak out what he had assumed but no words, coherent or otherwise came out. He just stood there gaping, repeating the motion of opening his mouth, frowning, shaking his head and more frowning.

No words could be said, he realized without indirectly causing grief or discomfort to all three parties.

XXX

"Oi, four-eyes! Stop standing there with your mouth open! You look like a goldfish!" commented Kurosaki. Uryu was just about to give a snappy retort when he saw Rukia-san turned and with a nasty scowl, kicked Kurosaki in the shins.

Rubbing his bruised shins, the brazen haired doctor grimaced before snarling. "What the fuck is your problem now, midget! What was that for?"

"You forgot to lock the door, you idiot!" she hissed as she glared hotly at her best friend.

"So?"

Rukia rolled her eyes in exasperation. "SO? So what if instead of Uryu-san, a **burglar** came in!"

"Che, I could take him down with just one karate-chop," answered Ichigo dismissively.

"Not if he's pointing a gun to your head!" she argued.

He scowled. "Well then, I'm sure Mr. Burglar would scare himself to _death_ just from the sight of the goddamned ugly pink abomination called your wall before he could even pull the trigger."

"Pink," Rukia replied indignantly as she stomped her foot for emphasize, "IS NOT ugly! It's Chappy's favourite colour!"

Ichigo scoffed. "Yeah, and the fact that he's about the gayest thing in the world next to your stick-in-the-ass brother, makes it all _so_ assuring."

"If I could just point out that…" interjected Uryu hopefully-

Before being rudely interrupted by Rukia's hollering. "HOW DARE YOU INSULT CHAPPY AND NII-SAMA, YOU CARROT! THEY'RE **MANLIER** THAN YOU WOULD EVER BE!"

He snorted, amused by her comment. "By whose standards, midget! Yours?"

"Why you little…"

Snarling, the petite and lithe Rukia-san had somehow managed to tackle a grown man twice her size onto the newspaper-covered floor and proceeded to straddle his hips. Uryu adjusted his lenses. It was a good thing that she was wearing pants then because Rukia-san had her hands spread on the front of Kurosaki's chest and both pairs of gazes were interlocked.

Uryu gave a dry cough. That looked _way_ too much like the beginnings of passionate sex scenes in movies.

XXX

Of course instead of a sensual X-rated scene of porno-styled foreplay between two passionate lovers playing out before his eyes, the innocent doctor was greeted by the sight of the woman raining down tiny wrathful punches down on the straddled doctor.

A doctor who made little hesitations in expressing his displeasure.

"GET OFF OF ME, MIDGET!"

Another punch landed on Kurosaki's chest. "Don't call me midget!"

Standing by the sidelines, Uryu couldn't help but stare at the interaction between the two friends, as they began to issue each other death threats and traded insults over a pink wall.

He was completely ignored by both of them!

He shook his head. He had originally wanted to point out the fact that _La Belle_ offered a security tighter than _Gitmo_ and the chances of a thief; much less a burglar breaking and entering was pretty much close to zero.

_But… _

Oh well. Never mind.

Kurosaki and Rukia-san were practically inches away from each other. Any _normal_ pair of platonic friends as they claimed themselves to be would have noticed that and flinched due to the severe lack of personal space.

But apparently, the bespectacled doctor narrowly dodged a flying ball of crumpled newspaper as the two began arguing back and forth with each other; these two had no problem being so invasive and intrusive of each other's personal place.

He caught sight of the fluttering pages of yellow post-it notes and a pen lying on the coffee table. Creeping pass the arguing couple, he made his way over. Uryu calmly tore a post-it and wrote a message in that cursive handwriting of his before sticking it on to the parcel. After that, he simply left the parcel on the table and made his way towards the door.

Sighing, the much-ignored psychiatrist shot another glance at the fighting pair before giving a wry smile as he shut the door _properly_ and walked away. And as the door shut, he wondered exactly how long it would take for the pair to finally notice him. He smirked.

Probably never. With luck, they won't even remember him showing on Rukia-san's doorstep and stumbling over his own words.

He nodded to himself. They definitely need to resolve the overwhelming sexual tension between them.

Soon.

Or they'll probably set themselves on fire from the intense emotions or worse-case scenario, suffocate to death from the growing tension. He paused, tapping his finger against his chin while he waited for the elevator. That wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe he should start a paper on them:

**UST: How it affects an heiress, an idiot and the ones around them.**

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

"**PINK**!"

"Burgundy!"

"**PINK**!"

"Mauve!"

"Damn it, stop arguing with me already!" snarled Rukia venomously. Her bundled fists showed no signs of retreating as she began to stage another full frontal attack on the enraged doctor trapped underneath her.

"We've already painted half of the room pink. You want to undo our efforts -," she checked the grandfather clock, "for the past six hours!"

Ichigo gritted his teeth together as he forced out his next sentence and at the same time fended himself from another incoming punch. "You think that's hard? I've been trying to get a point through that thick midget head of yours for the past **six** hours! How do you think I feel?"

Rukia scowled. "It's **MY** house. I can paint it any colour I want!"

Ichigo changed tactics, managing to grab hold of both her wrists and avoid her sharp clawing fingernails before answering. "Well I'm the **live-in tenant**!"

She stilled her fists. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he gritted out as he held on to the wrists.

She proceeded to give him an incredulous glare before resuming the attacks. "That doesn't even make sense! I don't see your name on the property lease! Nor do I have one as a matter of fact!"

"Rukia," he said tiredly as he tightened the hold on both wrists in a desperate effort to stop her violent barrage of fists. "I practically live here. Not stick-in-the-ass Byakuya, not Renji! **ME**! **I** sleep here. **I** wake up and eat your food. There's a wardrobe here for **my** clothes. Heck, you even do **my** laundry and I have **my** own toothbrush here!"

"Well then, Kurosaki," Rukia spat out from the clenched teeth as she tried frantically to free her wrists. "Maybe I should consider letting you pay me!"

He unwittingly loosened the tight hold when he saw the welling tears in her eyes. Just the sight of those goddamned saltine liquids gathering in her eyes made his heart clench uncomfortably. Guilt festered inside him.

"Rukia," he started. "I'm your best friend, not just a tenant! Doesn't that entitle me to at least some choice in choosing the wall colours?"

"NO!" she said forcefully as she wriggled and squirmed against him; rubbing herself against his hard and well-sculpted body unintentionally with her constant struggle to free her wrists. He scowled. It was bad enough that the air conditioner was out of commission for today and they had to do the painting without any cooling system, his best friend- the annoying little twerp she is now decided to aggravate his situation by practically sticking herself on to his sweaty skin.

And not to mention, her movements making several dangerously close calls to his crotch. He shut his eyes and counted backwards from 10, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as he tried to make sense of the stupid ridiculous stirrings starting from the pit of his stomach and nether regions.

XXX

He growled menacingly, but she apparently paid no heed to his warning. "Stop that, midget."

Rukia's big purple eyes flashed angrily. "Make me."

That's it. Ichigo could take it no more from the pint-sized authoress as he glared at her. The rubbing sensation of hers was worsening by the minute.

"You know what, Rukia," he fixed his best friend the deepest frown he could muster, "I am sick of this! This is a Saturday. We should be watching a movie, catching up with the others, working; not painting this goddamned ugly room in that fucking pink abomination!"

With that, he picked himself up from the newspaper-covered floor, releasing her wrists and ignored the almost non-existent weight of his best friend pressing against him; causing her to drop onto the floor as he rose to his feet.

Landing ungracefully on her _derrière_, Rukia didn't even bother to disguise her underlying anger as she seethed and fumed from his unjust treatment of her.

"What kind of friend drops their best friend on the floor?" she muttered as she rubbed her sore wrists before turning to face Ichigo. "Anyway, you can't do that because you **promised** to help me paint the room. And according to my schedule, I'm only free on Saturday!"

XXX

He snapped. He didn't want to, didn't mean to; but the mention of the word 'schedule' had triggered a deep, malicious outburst from him. Boiling rage burned him as the callous words came out with no forms of restrain and control.

"Fuck your schedule, Rukia! It's always your schedule these days! You can't call because you're so goddamned bloody busy. You won't even pick up the phone after I called you and left over fucking 27 messages. You won't answer the bloody door when I stood outside with the take-outs because you aren't even home! On a Sunday! Rukia! You're **always** home on Sundays. And you know what else, Rukia! I'm fucking leaving!"

Ichigo left her standing with her mouth agape and body frozen from the heated outburst as he made his way to the door. Dainty fingers clenched and unclenched themselves as the words made their impact, indenting themselves in Rukia's heart and soul.

She recovered just as he was about to set his foot outside the condo. Taking one shaky step in front of the other, she broke into a run as she speeded towards the door, managing to grab hold of Ichigo's sleeve before the door closed. He froze but didn't shake her off. She took it as a sign for her to continue.

She cast her head down, ashamed as she pulled harder at the sleeves. Tugging it childishly, she asked in a quiet voice. "Are you sulking?"

He growled; a deep rumble coming from his chest as he refused to meet her gaze. "No, I'm not!"

She chuckled at his response; while it may sound threatening and scary to others, to her, it simply proved to her that her best friend was being a big baby and throwing another one of his childish tantrums. God, he can be such a pain and a whiny baby, but well she supposed that's what friends; no, she corrected herself, that's what _best_ friends are for.

And lately, she hadn't been a very good one too. The raven-haired authoress concentrated her line of vision on the floor, biting her lips; afraid of pushing him too far before steeling her resolve and proceeded to pull harder at the sleeves, forcing him to step back into the condo while she silently shut the door behind him.

Lifting her head up, Rukia tilted her head high to get a better view of him. Luminous purple eyes took in his lanky form in quiet appraisal. The evening sun had highlighted his mop of neon orange hair, casting a regular sheen of light on his charismatic feature.

His most prominent features being of course, the warm pair of soft butterscotches that glimmered under the light.

She sighed. He was so much taller than her that sometimes it was a wonder to herself how she managed to make him do her bidding. She curled her delicate digits around his callous ones and felt him flinch from the sudden contact-a sharp involuntary intake of breath as he did.

XXX

Her lips formed a thin line. To be perfectly honest, Rukia didn't like it any more than he did. Between them, intentional skin against skin contacts were sparse and few because every time they did touch, she herself felt a tingle, a rush of some unexplainable excitement running down her spine that burned; something so indefinable that it frightened her; but this time she didn't drop the gaze or the hold.

In a calm voice, she commanded him to look at her. And with a turn of his orange hair, he faced her gaze levelly.

She held on to his hand. The cold hand of hers melted against his warm palm, giving her the push to continue. Her violet irises met their brown counterpart. "I'm sorry I haven't been much of a friend lately. And I'm sorry. I guess I got pretty caught up in my work, being new and all at _Meow Meow!_. I'm sorry, Ichigo."

He snorted, but she tactfully ignored it.

"I'm sorry that I was being such a jerk and ignoring you because my schedule. I know you never ignored me unless of course you were on call or attending to some emergency." She paused; taking in a deep breath before continuing.

"I promise that I'll call you at least once a day, bake you muffins at least once a month and-" she smirked playfully "reply every single voice mail you left me. So next time you better think twice before leaving 27 voice mails, okay strawberry?"

He gave her a thin smirk and she returned it with her mega-watt grin. "Does that mean that I'm forgiven?" she prompted.

XXX

He scoffed and instead of answering her, wrapped his arms around her slim waist as he pulled her into a hug. Her heart beat rapidly as she was lifted in the air by his arms; she gasped and unwittingly took in a strong whiff of cinnamon, coffee and sanitizers- something she had come to associate with Ichigo over the years.

She should know how sweaty they both were after spending so much time painting. And the last thing she needed was to get coated in someone else's buckets of sweat, but as of the moment she couldn't care less.

Rukia gave only a few seconds of hesitation before leaning back against him. Despite not being much of a physically affectionate person, she let the moment slide as she boldly rested her head on his shoulder; and sighed contently.

His broad shoulders were really comforting and whenever she felt that the Kuchiki elders were draining her brain cells or that her work and writer's block started getting out of hand, she would find herself greeted by the sight of his shoulders. He is _the_ shoulder for her to lean on, always. Rukia shut her eyes, feeling as though time had frozen.

She could stay here forever.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

"Does this mean we get to paint the wall in another colour?"

She rolled her eyes. Of course Ichigo being the idiot he is, just had to choose that exact moment to spoil the heartwarming scene by inserting a completely unneeded interjection.

The spell was shattered as she began to disentangle herself from his embrace, feeling slightly miffed about the sudden plunge in temperature as she made her way back into the empty room, closely followed by the lanky doctor.

"Don't you ever know when to give up?" she asked in a mildly annoyed tone as she grabbed a brush and began to ascend the ladder; balancing herself precariously on it.

The orange-head sniggered. Mimicking her actions, he grabbed both a bucket of pink paint and a discarded paintbrush on the floor. He was just about to dip the brush in the pink dye when he sudden remembered something, causing him to drop the brush onto the newspapers.

"Ishida!" he exclaimed suddenly, startling his elfin best friend to almost miss her steps.

Regaining her balance, she turned and asked sourly. "What about him?"

He frowned. A deep thoughtful look on his face was evident by the sight of his scrunched up eyebrows. "Wasn't he here just now?"

XXX

Her eyes widened. "He was?"

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

Minor line spacing problem readdressed and straightened out. So I guess I owe you all an apology for waiting so long to publish this chapter, but well, let's just say that life has a way of its own in being anoying and exams , major public exams especially have a way of making you emo-ish. XD

But anyways, on with the chapter; They're too caught up in each other that everything else fades into the background. Even the _great_ tailor extraordinaire Uryu Ishida…

Here's a hint for the next chapter:

* * *

><p><em>Rukia-san<em>,

Included within the parcel is your dress. I hope that you will enjoy yourself thoroughly at the '_Kuchiki Corporate 175th Anniversary Party_' next month. Since dress code is black tie optional, I think the dress will fit wonderfully. We should schedule an appointment soon to discuss the details of payment.

PS. You should match the dress with the pearls and that red _Gucci_ clutch you just bought.

Sincerely,

_Uryu Ishida_

* * *

><p>PPS. Chocolate chip cookies for those who guessed correctly what '<em>tight s-<em>' is.

And the little 'dialogue' that Uryu misunderstood was inspired by a particular fanart I saw a few years ago, sadly I've forgotten about the name of this artwork as well as the fanartist, so if you know him/her or if by any chance, you **are** the fanartist and happen to be reading this; *bows* thank you very much for the inspiration.

(Don't be naughty, you guys!) ;)


	7. Chapter 6: A Stranger

**Chapter 6: A Stranger**

_~Ichigo~_

* * *

><p>He hated attending any formal or semiformal events as her date because:<p>

A) He's forced to wear an actual tie and tux.

B) More often than not, _Byakuya-nii-sama_, will be there.

C) He was called in most of the time as the last minute resort. The little midget had always to manage to somehow _conveniently_ forgotten certain details in the invitation. And he was her last option.

Not that he was actually fantasizing about going as her date in the first place of course.

Nope; the thought had never even crossed his mind.

* * *

><p>"Remind me again why I'm doing this," grumbled the brazen-haired doctor irritably as his petite best friend standing on her tip toes; began to spin and loop the span of burgundy silk into a tie.<p>

"Will you _please_ hold still?" hissed Rukia; her nimble fingers were tense and busied themselves with the task of adjusting the red tie to suit their wearer- a very stubborn wearer who acted like a petulant child when it came to ties.

Honestly what kind of grown men wouldn't know how to knot a tie?

XXX

Brown-hued orbs peered down at the offending chokehold around his neck and the dainty fingers involved in the tedious process. Ichigo frowned; contemplating several _discreet_ ways of loosening the blasted silk garment without getting caught or smacked by the pint-sized authoress.

"Don't even think about it, strawberry!" said Rukia through clenched teeth as violet irises burned with such luminous intensity that they scathed him. "I have worked too darn hard for this."

Another loop.

"You are **not** going to ruin my sacrifice for having to sit perfectly still since the past 5 hours while Ran-chan and Yumi applied god-knows-what-on my face and body!"

A hard jab on the chest.

"You are **not** going to ruin nii-sama's efforts. Tonight has got to be absolutely **perfect**!"

And without giving him any time for response, Rukia had viciously drawn the knot up against his Adam's apple in one swift maneuver.

He scowled; rubbing the bruising skin tenderly.

Now he knew why the ancient aristocrats sometimes committed self-suicides with the help of a silk cord; the scowl on his face deepened, he could very well die from strangulation himself!

The doctor shot his best friend a dirty look only to be greeted by the sight of her rolling eyes. "You'll live," she said casually.

XXX

His eyebrow twitched. "I can't believe I'm spending a free Saturday night attending a Kuchiki dinner party as your date! Why couldn't you pick someone else? You know I hate attending these things," he grumbled sullenly while cuffing the links on his black coat.

"Be thankful I didn't make you wear a bow-tie or a tweed suit. It's either this or take outs," she threw him a penetrating glare. "It's your choice!" she huffed.

He took note of her 5-inch red _Marc Jacobs_ and promptly decided to hold his tongue. With the wellbeing of his shins in mind, he bit his tongue hard and instead glared hotly at his reflection on the polished metal sides of the elevator.

Scowling darkly, Ichigo ran a hand through his vibrant shock of orange locks, tousling them as he did and soon enough directed his attention back to his tuxedo. He stared at his reflection.

XXX

His _Giorgio Armani_ of the night was a last-minute ensemble by Rukia and that effeminate friend/stylist of hers called Yumi or something, who was also apparently a very nouveau metrosexual, but not gay (could've fooled him) fashion designer.

Rukia practically had to bribe that man with her famous apple pie dessert to get the stylist to put his _extraordinary_ skills to the test and dress Ichigo to the best _à la mode_ clothing that money can buy.

Not that Ichigo needed much transformation to begin with, assured the confident aesthete and seeing how the end result was so satisfying to all, Ichigo supposed the man did deserve some credits.

XXX

A black silk jacket was draped over a cotton dress shirt Ichigo wore underneath; its lapels and inner coating faced with a smooth layer of ruby red silk, a shade of red not unlike the current chokehold on his neck and the red Gucci purse his best friend held. The wool and satin trousers were of the same design as the jacket. As for shoes, he had traded his everyday wear- his comfy worn-in Armani loafers for a pair of classic black patent leather lace-ups.

But of course let's not forget; there was the matter of a missing cummerbund and the lack of a bow-tie for a tux to address.

And, he smirked; he still couldn't believe his best friend had lost in a verbal argument, much less an argument over clothes and accessories.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

_Standing by the sidelines, Ichigo couldn't help but feel like a mannequin- silent, mute and the general 'let's- play-dress-up' Ken whose opinion meant pretty much nothing. He stifled a yawn. _

_ "The shirt looks better with cummerbund. It's a _**FORMAL**_ event, Yumi," growled the authoress as she waved the black sash in front of the fashion conscious man._

_ Yumichika shook his head, clucking his tongue like a mother hen. "Rukia, best selling authoress you may be, fashionista you are not. Honey, your friend," he gestured to the bored-looking Ichigo leaning against the pillar; his hands behind his mass of flaming mane- the classic stance of a bored man forced on a shopping spree. "-has the body of a Greek god," he strolled towards the doctor. _

_ "What the hell!"_

XXX

_Brown amber eyes shot up alarmingly as the effeminate stylist patted his cheeks condescendingly. _

"_Such high cheekbones." _

_Ichigo's eyebrow twitched. _

"_Such a strong jaw," Yumichika had grasped the lower half of his face within his grasp and was squeezing the cheeks –as well as poking them. For such a skinny looking man, the guy sure had a tight grip. _

_Yumichika boldly leaned closer until his face was practically an inch away from the neurosurgeon as he scrutinized the latter's rugged good looks, tilting it from side to side before announcing, "Sans the frowns and premature wrinkles because of them, he would actually look quite a lot like _Jensen Ackles_." _

_Needless to say, Ichigo was less than pleased; especially when the stylist deemed it appropriate to run his pale hands on the doctor's chest. "And with such a chiseled chest that a woman would love to wash her clothes on," the man crooned with a sigh and pretty much swooned- a love sick look on his grinning face that made Ichigo cringe._

XXX

_ Rukia cleared her throat and almost immediately the stylist was back on his two good feet acting with extreme professional indifference as he gilded his way back to Rukia's side. Ichigo fought down a shudder. The quick change in manners and temperament of the stylist was blood-chilling._

_ "Hon, face it; your friend here is a hunk," the stylist sighed dreamily. "Are you sure you're completely straight?" he asked as his expression turned sly._

_Ichigo wasn't exactly sure whether he should be horrified or otherwise. And without even waiting for his response, Yumichika was already firing away. _

"_Cummerbunds," Yumi twirled a lock of hair absentmindedly with his index finger, "are like so last season." He grabbed a peak-collared cotton dress shirt and carmine silk tie from the racks of clothes before turning his attention back to them._

_ "Dressing him up in cummerbunds and bow tie," he frowned. "-would be equivalent to trying to match up _James Bond_ in hippies slacks." The effeminate man winced, as if disgusted by the mental image portrayed in his mind while the other two blinked and deadpanned._

_Ichigo was personally torn between the decision to reach for his _Blackberry_ to call '911' before running the hell out of here or stick around for his best friend's sake._

XXX

_"Such a waste of perfect sexiness and masculinity," he snatched the sash angrily away from the shell-shocked heiress. _

_ "Hey!" she exclaimed._

_ "No!"Yumichika stated loudly, determination set once again in his eyes. "This waste in beauty is unacceptable!" _

_Both Ichigo and Rukia stared at him, a blanch look on their faces as they watch the enraged designer tugged the sash with such desperate force that his knuckles turned colourless. _

_ "I will not allow cummerbunds to zap away Ichigo-san's positive sexiness. This is too _unbeautiful_," he declared and in a sudden display of strength, the sash was reduced to two ripped shreds as Yumichika turned and forced the full brunt of his Medusa-like gaze on to the Kuchiki heiress. _

"_He must wear this shirt and tie," he shoved the two pieces of clothing into the petite woman's heart-shaped face, "and he absolutely _**MUST NOT**_ tuck in his shirt." _

_Rukia took in the sight of the shredded garment and the fierce look of determination upon the intimidating stylist. She visibly gulped before holding her hand out. _

"_Deal."_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Okay, so Ichigo admitted that he didn't look half bad in a tux.

Jeans and T-shirts accentuated his suaveness and the chiseled planes and contours of his body features but in a tux, good god; in a tux, he looked a like a sleek, prowling wild panther; dangerous, lethal and simply oozing sensual appeal to the opposite sexes, again Yumi-something's words; not his.

The expression 'tall, dark and handsome' was made for a tuxedo wearing Ichigo.

He turned his body sideways and nodded with satisfaction at the sight. If he ever made the transition to become a 'Godfather', well, he shrugged; at least he'll look like a real badass mobster with a mouth-drooling body to die for.

XXX

"Oi! You done admiring yourself yet, Mr. _Narcissus_?"

The snappy remark had jolted him from his reverie. Shifting his attention away from the makeshift mirrors, he smirked. "Don't tell me little Miss Heiress pissed off because she lost an argument?"

She glared daggers at him. Best friend or not, the orange-haired doctor can be a real insensitive and did she mention unsupportive, jerk at times.

"Shut up," she muttered. She took a calming breath, balling her fists against the semi-transparent tulle as she focused her attention on evening out her breathing.

Her left hand reached up involuntarily to finger the string of white pearls tied along her neck- a generous gift from Byakuya-nii-sama when she had published her first book, while glaring at the flashing number displayed on top of the elevator double panels.

She held her breath, and just when she thought she was about to die from the sheer lack of oxygen-

* * *

><p><em>Ding!<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

The looming doors slid open. It revealed to her what she had already expected as usual, the ballroom was large (the bigger the better, or so the Kuchiki philosophy went) and filled with people. Its looming ceiling was high and decorated with paintings of uniquely detailed fresco; the dangling crystal chandelier hanging from it merely accented the room's grandeur.

She looked down to the floor and noticed the rich red texture of the carpet beneath her feet. Outside the elevator, they were replaced by neatly cut marble tiles. Outside, a wide, dominating sight of the imperial staircase greeted her. Gleaming in the light, the banisters took up the gilded sheen of gold and she could plainly see the people traipsing on the floor above.

There were painted ladies, dolled up in rich satin and mink coats; giggling, simpering, gossiping and exchanging insults amidst pleasantries. There were mustached and bespectacled men with curvaceous and provocatively dressed 'girls' clinging desperately close while they watched their man drawled on and on about business ventures Rukia was sure that most of them have never even heard of.

The fair-skinned heiress frowned; stilling her movements.

XXX

How long had she been out of touch with this part of her- the fancy private schools, etiquette lessons, dinner galas; this entirely different world of hidden smiles and well-aimed insults, draped in the finest furs and silk money could procure but dripped with the foulest malice that only the rich and powerful could have the power to comprehend?

Why was it that they seemed a lifetime away when she was with Ichigo?

This was something she had grown up with, being schooled and taught in the same lessons as any other rich member of upper society, the _beau monde_; her French education had stepped in unbidden and helpfully supplied, would; but now as she stood with bated breath, she realized this was something as foreign to her as an well um… an aardvark, she supposed.

Gulping, her face turned pale as she sought out the reassuring gaze of her best friend. Warm ocher orbs lined with just the barest hint of nervousness found themselves aligned with a deep set of violet blues; anticipation and anxiety lurking behind them. Offering her a thin smile, he reached for her hand and silently tucked it into the crook of his elbow.

* * *

><p><em>For Byakuya-nii-sama then.<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

It only took a few seconds for the cold digits to curl compliantly along the familiar arm. The warmth exuding from the gentle contact was instant relief.

Dark sooty eyelashes fluttered open; radiant and bright. With her hair arranged in an elegant chignon and a few stray strands of black framing the sides of her face, she tightened the hold on Ichigo's arm, dropping the other to her side before plastering on her charming Kuchiki persona and signature smile.

Shooting the brazen-haired doctor a grateful glance, she scarcely batted an eyelash as she followed his lead and exited the elevator; assuming the identity as the wealthy, extremely genteel and cultured goody-two-shoes heiress once more.

God knows she was so much more than just that…

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Ichigo on the other hand was not faring well. It might have taken Kuchiki heiress a few minutes to smack on her Kuchiki face and play the perfect heiress, but for him; well let's just say that Ichigo Kurosaki was a man with a deep seated paranoia of ties and social events.

He stuck out like a sore thumb in these elaborate dinner parties etiquette wise.

He looked at his best friend. Out here, she was in her element; so calm and elegant as she sashayed her way through and carried herself off in that stunning black and cream tulle-tiered cocktail dress; the grace and poise in her lithe movements as befitting as any earth-bound angel.

The constant stream of warmth from Rukia at his side had helped lessened somewhat of his current situation, but something told Ichigo that tonight was not going to be a night of smooth sailing…

He was right.

XXX

"Ichigo, Byakuya-nii-sama's there! Let's go and greet him!"said Rukia and without giving him any minute for a repercussion despite the sudden turn of events; was already pulling him along by the hand, weaving their way through the throng of strangers that surrounded the elusive and aloof corporation mogul, Byakuya Kuchiki.

He gulped. His fingers instinctively snatched a glass of half-filled liqueur from a passing waiter's tray before finishing the drink in a single gulp; the sting barely registered in his mind as he did. His mind was simply too far away; immersed too deeply in the Herculean task of being _civil_ to his best friend's _nii-sama_.

Byakuya _hated_ him. And no, don't ask him why.

Because Ichigo sure as hell didn't know the answer.

All he could say that was for a universally known Ice Man of law and logic, the Kuchiki mogul can be a real irrational block of wood with a habit of ticking the orange-haired doctor off without fail.

The only consolation in Ichigo's current situation right now is that both men knew that their hatred for each other was a mutual feeling.

The distance between them and the immaculately-groomed host of the event became dramatically shorter with every passing second. He clenched his left fist and forced his face into a smile with acting skills that would even make Rukia's pale in comparison, hoping to defy the odds somehow and manage (with much death threats from the mogul's beloved midget of a sister of course) to be remotely polite to the businessman.

XXX

A poke from Rukia shifted his attention back into the grand hall. "What are you doing?" asked Rukia; fairly annoyed.

He gritted his teeth and with much difficulty managed to reply her without causing a scene. "Nothing. What are you talking about anyway, midget?"

Her eyebrow twitched and she _accidentally_ stepped on his foot.

"Oh that was so clumsy of me, Ichigo. Are you okay?"

She remarked in that sugary coated Kuchiki princess tone that always made him cringe. Making a show of inspecting his injuries, she bent him low to her level and hissed. "Lose that smile on your face. You look constipated."

He fumed. Really he went out of his way to be civil and 'smile' and this was the thanks he got?

A retort was quick to take form at the tip of his tongue but Rukia was apparently not finished with the conversation.

XXX

"And," she adjusted his tie "see that lady over there," she pointed to the plump woman wearing the most hideous and unevenly proportioned mermaid gown he had ever seen. On her surplus body size, it made her like an over-large octopus.

He quickly nodded. "I think she's trying to call security to I quote unquote 'kick that orange-haired criminal psychopath out'."

Suffice to say that the smile on the brazen-haired doctor had quickly been replaced with a fierce scowl. After giving Ichigo a pat on his back and an almost apologetic smile, the duo resumed their journey and bravely tackled the task of weaving through the crowd and on Rukia's part, giving polite nods of acknowledgement to a thousand unfamiliar faces.

The sight of her best friend's spectacular scowl however was effective to the extent of being enough to keep curious on-lookers and a few well-known Casanovas to steer clear from the pair until they finally reached their destination.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

"Byakuya-nii-sama," greeted Rukia obediently as the heiress called out to her brother. Violet eyes began to take in the sight of her brother's rigid straight posture. The ivory-coloured two-button bespoke tuxedo, the custom-made marquis vest and the soft lavender-pink tie accented her brother's pale skin, fair features and sleek glossy hair- a trait shared by both Kuchiki siblings as they regarded each other with a slight upturned corner of their lips.

Standing as inconspicuous as he could by Rukia's side, Ichigo grudgingly admitted that to the notorious emotionless 'Ice Man' of the business world's credit, Byakuya greeted his only sister decidedly warmly by maintaining the small curve of lips long enough for it to be called a smile.

"Rukia," he greeted, "Delighted that you can make it to our corporate party."

Rukia beamed while this gesture might not have been as 'affectionate' as a normal greeting between the brother and sister should be; in the world of scheming relatives and throat-cutting ventures of modern day moguls and aristocrats, the very action had already spoken volumes.

XXX

"The pleasure is mine, nii-sama. You are too kind in extending the invitation to me and my guest," she replied.

"Think nothing of it," answered Byakuya smoothly. "Siblings are to be acknowledged in public and in private as any family members should be, despite what other uncouth plebeians may think."

"Yes well, um… Ichigo would like to thank you for your generous offer as well, wouldn't you Ichigo?" she asked before _subtly_ elbowing her best friend at the ribs. Forced to join in on the conversation, the young doctor spared her a rude glare. The intensity of it increased in magnitude as he forced himself to make eye contact with the slate-grey eyes of the Kuchiki noble.

As usual, he found them as cold as the December snow, twice as chilling and dripping with hints animosity. He glanced as the raven-haired noble's grip tightened along the stem of his champagne glass.

Nope, definitely no brotherly love there.

XXX

"_Byakuya_," gritted the doctor through clenched teeth; his lips set in a grim line.

"_Kurosaki_," came the stiff reply as the raven-haired noble.

Standing by the side, Rukia suppressed the urge to rub her throbbing temple.

* * *

><p><em>Here they go again.<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

The two alpha males faced off against each other in a heated glaring contest; each one as determined to stare the opponent down as the other. If one could draw an animal illustration of both; you would have seen two very feral wolves, hackles raised and poised for attack at the slightest provocation.

The tension in the air was almost palpable as the two grown men, well mostly on the orange-haired doctor's part, glowered and snarled, the other was pretending to be the stolid block of ice with unblinking eyes he was rumoured to be.

"Ah yes, _Kurosaki_. I must say that I'm surprised to see you here. I cann_ot_ simply imagine how your patients in the hospital are coping with such a loss," said Byakuya.

The young doctor snarled, "They're strong people, _Byakuya_. They'll manage."

The fair-skinned noble's eyebrow rose. "Oh really?"

"Yes," came the stiff reply as Ichigo's left eye twitched. "Really."

Rukia cleared her throat discreetly before hooking her arm around her best friend and smartly interjected her remarks. "Well would you look at the buffet table," she said in her sugary flake voice while simultaneously tugging at her best friend's arm; motioning him to play along and waved goodbye to her beloved brother.

"Hey you little-"

"Come on, Ichigo," she hissed before she clamped her hand on Ichigo's jaw as she pulled him towards the delicacies-laden buffet tables. "It was very nice talking to you, nii-sama."And with one last grateful smile at her older brother, Rukia was soon dragging a very reluctant doctor to the food section.

"Mpphhh…hmpphh"

The oxygen deprived victim tugged sharply at his best friend's iron clamp on his face. God, he swore that if she didn't let go of his jaw any time soon, he was going to suffocate to death. And what did his best friend in the whole wide world do?

She ignored him.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

"Would it kill you to keep your thoughts to yourself for once, carrot-top and be polite to nii-sama," Rukia hissed. Her eyebrows were knitted in annoyance while she angrily strutted ahead of him.

The instant she had let go, the young doctor was gasping for air. Huffing and panting, Ichigo scowled as he noticed the disappearing figure of his petite friend.

"Oi! Wait up, Rukia!"

There was no reply. Cursing under his breath, Ichigo jogged to keep up with the raven-haired heiress's brisk pace. "Slow down, will you midget?" he growled as they were now walking side by side.

"It's not like I kicked Byakuya's ass or dunked his head into the toilet bowl or dropped his body into a sea of hungry piranhas or-"

Rukia gave him a pointed look. "Not that I was thinking of doing it or anything," he finished lamely. Rukia snorted before inserting her cheeky remark, "-as if you could even touch nii-sama."

Ichigo gave a light chuckle. "Yeah, you're right. I'll probably be frozen to death on the spot before I could even get close to him."

"Nah, you'll be sushi from the sharp blades of his cherry blossom petals. He plants heaps of them in the garden," she teased.

XXX

The two shared a knowing look and laughed softly. Inwardly she shrugged. At least this time her best friend hadn't spilled red wine on nii-sama's tuxedo. Improvements, however small were still improvements.

They kept a leisure pace as they began to move further and further away from the huddling masses decked in silks and furs. Rukia kept her face blank save for the fake plastered on smile and an uneasy silence followed.

Ichigo let his gaze wander; frowning at how the guests were sampling and tasting the cuisines on the buffet table. Carefully, he cast a sideway glance at the numerous proud aristocrats and business moguls who were trading business pleasantries among other things behind their easy beguiling smiles and booming laughs, deciding easily enough that if it weren't for his best friend, the party wasn't even worth his time.

Tugging the annoying chokehold on his neck, Ichigo shifted close to his best friend. His eyes concentrated at the red silk tie, he called out to her.

"Hey Rukia, let's go back. I'll rather watch Chappy reruns than staying her-"

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>Rukia?"<strong>_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Out came a wholly unfamiliar voice from the crowd. Ichigo looked up and found himself face to face with a man who apart from the flashing pearly-whites, spiky raven black hair and bilious aqua green eyes could have been mistaken for his identical twin.

He frowned. He didn't know he had a twin. And speaking of which, how did his 'twin' know his best friend?

Ichigo stopped in his tracks and noticed from his peripheral vision that the petite authoress stood stationary by his side. He was genuinely surprised when he found her little fingers curled against his wrist. His eyebrows were furrowed deep.

That was strange, to say the least. The proud little midget would never clutch his arm no matter how stressed the situation was, in public, especially in a room full of stubborn old elders who were still less than amused by the thought of a Kuchiki princess earning her living as a 'storyteller'.

He bent low to Rukia's height and whispered to her in the smallest voice possible.

"Do you know this guy?"

His friend was oddly speechless; opting to nod instead of giving him a straightforward reply. Her fingers were squeezing his arm so tightly that he was afraid of it breaking. Her chest was heaving, from what exactly though he couldn't tell but it probably had something to do with the mysterious newcomer.

She gulped.

XXX

"K-K-Kaien-dono, is that really you?" asked the heiress quietly as her enormous violet eyes zeroed in on the newcomer wearing a pressed and ironed lavender-toned tuxedo.

Ichigo frowned. He had definitely never seen this man in his life.

"Ah," said the man; rubbing his nape before he threw a wide grin at their direction. "It's been a long time, ne? _Rukia_."

XXX

Ichigo didn't like the man at all. It was in his body language, it was in the easy smile on the stranger's face, it was in the way his tongue rolled to form the words 'Rukia'.

As any protective best friend would do in such a situation, Ichigo was about to flip the stranger a rude gesture and escort Rukia away from whoever the hell this 'Kaien' was when Rukia did the most unexpected thing of all.

The next thing Ichigo saw was a blur of movement by his side. His eyes widened and he promptly lost his ability to speak as his normally reserved best friend and _the_ princess of etiquette threw herself against the stranger and wrapped her arms around his shoulder.

Ichigo's breath hitched and fisted his knuckles tightly.

This _cannot_ be happening.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Ichigo Kurosaki was officially losing it.

Here he was sitting in the bar of cocktail lounge as he entertained himself with his second shot of _Jack Daniels_ of the night. Downing the hard liquor in one gulp, he set the empty glass hard on the counter, causing the young bartender to jump at the sound.

Ichigo ran a hand through his bright orange tresses, tousling them into tangled knots as he brought his attention back to the very much intimidated bartender. He squinted at the name tag before calling out.

"Hanatarou, _JD_ on the rocks. Now," he grumbled. His voice was slightly slur but being a man who could hold his liquor relatively well, the orange-haired doctor was far from drunk.

"Ummm, sir," began the timid bartender tentatively. "This is your third shot. M-M-Maybe you s-should um… stop?"

Ichigo fixed him with a deep, penetrating gaze and the perpetual scowl on his face deepened. It offered no room for further discussions. Within seconds, Ichigo found himself looking at his fourth shot for the night.

Gripping the glass tight, he took a sip of the throat-scorching liquor before sighing. This was ridiculous, he thought as he took another swig of the whiskey.

Why was he getting so worked up about anyways?

He should've known better.

This wasn't the first time Rukia hugged someone in public. She hugged Renji before and even then Ichigo didn't feel any urge to pound the red-head into a bloody pulp.

* * *

><p><em>Ah, but she didn't hug him in a room full of stuck-ups and nobles, now did she?<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Sometimes, Ichigo hated his brain; hated how the stupid thing just had to be so goddamned rational. But back to that insufferable bastard called 'Kaien', oh he had the strong urge to wring the guy's neck, drown him, cut him with a dozen shallow cuts before pouring salt over them and then watch him die an agonizingly painful death from blood loss.

No, he amended his statement. Even then he still had an urge to resurrect him and castrate the man, dig out his eyes... Well you get the idea.

He frowned upon noticing that the glass was empty again. His malicious intent must have shown on his face because Hanatarou immediately rushed forward to fill the glass; the poor bartender's face as pale as a sheet.

But really, he thought. Just who the heck was this 'Kaien' dude?

Throughout their years as each other's best friend, Rukia had never once mentioned him; which was weird because they practically know everything about each other. His friends were hers and hers were his, well most of them anyway.

In fact she liked to introduce her friends to him, but with this 'Kaien'; all she said was that he was a 'friend' and the two soon disappeared to have a _private_ conversation in one of the many pre-booked hotel halls.

From what he gathered, the two obviously have a 'history' together but to what extent exactly, that was what Ichigo was curious about.

* * *

><p><em>Maybe they were lovers?<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

The particular thought sent his heart churning in fits of spasms. Ichigo wished he could temporarily order his mind to just shut up and stop thinking. He breathed heavily and in turn gripped the glass harder.

So what if they were, he argued; Rukia was a grown woman, she had her free will. She was free to take up any lovers she wanted, who was he to say otherwise and besides' it had probably happened a long time ago.

* * *

><p><em>And there's nothing you can do about it, is there?<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

His thoughts took an unusually bitter swerve at that and before he even realized it, he was already downing his fifth shot of the night. He blinked as hot tears sprang as the fiery beverage travelled down his throat. Ichigo's vision blurred for a few seconds as the effect of downing 5 consecutive _Jack Daniels_ in a span of mere minutes began to register in his body, but still he wasn't completely inebriated.

He chided himself, face palming for added effect.

* * *

><p><em>Shut up, stupid brain.<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He was just about to signal Hanatarou for a refill when a very much unappreciated presence appeared on the stool beside him.

He rolled his eyes. God, Rukia was right.

Up close, the man did smell like cherry-blossoms.

XXX

Could this night get any worse?

Looking at the newcomer's half-filled champagne flute in distaste, Ichigo couldn't help but scoff at his choice of drink.

"Is there something wrong with my drink, _Kurosaki_?" came the aloof baritone of the raven-haired business mogul, his eyebrows elegantly curved as he asked the question.

"Just thinking whether I should order a _Cosmopolitan_ for you, that's all. _Byakuya_," he fired back with a smirk.

The raven-haired noble gave a loud 'hmph' before he spoke. "I have something that maybe of an importance to you, _Kurosaki_."

XXX

Ichigo snorted and was about to interject another smartass remarks but stopped when he saw that the mogul was really reaching for something. He watched in curiosity as the pale-skinned noble proceeded to reach into his inner pocket and from there, produced a wallet-sized photograph.

With the help of his index finger, Byakuya elegantly slid the photo across the counter without so much as blinking before he coolly took a sip of the sparkling liqueur. Ichigo grabbed hold of the faded photo without another word.

Squinting somewhat in the dim light, the first thing that Ichigo noticed that the raven-head in the picture was obviously his then much younger best friend. Beaming at the camera, the little midget had her black raven strands tied into two pigtails by her side and wore a light green-yellow sundress; a certain air of childhood innocence surrounding her as her eyes brightened in mischief with her midnight black tresses dancing in the wind.

He smirked, because even then the proud Lilliputian still had the same stray bang resting across her forehead with her almond-shaped eyes the same (or maybe just a shade lighter) cerulean. A smile came unwittingly but not unwelcomed on his lips.

Some things, he thought would never change.

The second he finished locating Rukia on the photograph however, his attention was taken up by the grinning boy standing beside her. Two little smiling raven-heads.

Wearing a plain white T-shirt and jeans, the boy had his arm tossed across Rukia's shoulder. Ichigo peered closer at the photo and instantly froze, his eyes widened in shock as he saw the colour of the boy's eyes.

It was a boy with aqua green eyes (seaweed putrid, really; in his opinion) and black spikes for hair. But then that means…

XXX

No, he shook his head. He was jumping into conclusions. There were probably hundreds or thousands of raven-heads with green eyes out there.

Who said it absolutely _had_ to be 'Kaien'?

Take Ulquiorra Schiffer for instance. The recently transferred German cardiologist fitted the profile too.

But still, Ichigo cringed; the German was so stoical and emotionless that even the idea of him twitching the corners of his lips upwards was a stretch (no puns intended).

If he really wanted to know whether the boy was really 'Kaien', he realized that there was only one way to solve the mystery.

"Byakuya," he began. Uncertainty was laced in every single syllable he uttered. The mogul's dark grey eyes glanced at him dismissively and took another sip from his champagne flute; his expression remained solemn and impassive.

Ichigo's fingers tightened around the glass cup. He, himself had no idea whether the aloof noble would listen to his question and even bothered answering it, but still the brash doctor was determined.

Boring his eyes deep into the listless greys of concrete and cement, Ichigo could barely keep his voice still as he asked the question.

"T-That little boy in the photo," his tongue darted to lick his suddenly dried lips; "is he 'Kaien'?"

"Yes."

* * *

><p><em>Clash!<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

The glass cup Ichigo held broke as he loosened his tight grip. Fragments of delicate glass shards splintered and shattered as they made contact with the snug carpet of the ground. Hanatarou winced at the loud sound, clambering his way to get a broom before any of the patrons could injure themselves on the shards; leaving the two men to each other's company.

Unfathomable grey eyes watched on listlessly. The powerful business mogul's expression remained blank, schooled into perfect aloofness and stoical in his every feature as he regarded the broken glass coolly.

Beside him, the orange-haired perpetrator was uncharacteristically silent. Byakuya gave a barely audible sigh, his lips once again sealed as they came in contact with the cold glass and champagne.

XXX

Of all the idiots out there to fall in love with his sister, why did it have to be that stupid thick-headed orange dandelion, who's probably still in denial, that had even the slightest chance of deserving her.

The multibillionaire is quite adamant that the ginger head harboured something more than just ordinary platonic love for his younger sister.

But being that idiotic and slow person that the boy was, he probably hasn't even realized the true extent of his feelings for Rukia yet.

Now let's make this perfectly clear.

Did he, Byakuya Kuchiki, the esteemed 28th clan leader from the Kuchiki clan, CEO of_ Kuchiki Corp_ and _Senbonzakura Enterprise_ ever thought for one second that the fumbling sorry excuse of a man like Kurosaki could ever deserve a jewel like his sister?

XXX

Obviously, absolutely, definitely **not**!

XXX

Back then, he hoped that his sister would eventually find herself a soft-spoken suitor, one of a decent built and fair looks but gifted with a keen intellect and a good character.

The young lord cast a surreptitious glance towards the brooding doctor.

XXX

That idiot is loud, rude, idiotic, unmannered, uncivilized and had the sensitivity of a boot; his sister is a very delicate flower that needed to be treated with care and love.

* * *

><p><em>But…<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He took another delicate sip of the liqueur. If it's what that would make his beloved sister happy, well just who was he to object to that. Byakuya pursed his lips. His sister's happiness overrides his own insecurities and loss.

Always has and forever will. He promised her unconditional brotherly love and affection, enough to last lifetimes.

This promise, he fully intended to keep.

* * *

><p><em>Starting with his timely intervention between the two.<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

The idiotic fool of a buffoon and his innocently uncorrupted sister were never going to see past their own web of self-denial and realize their own affections for each other without a little boost.

The boy was just so dense that Byakuya doubted the relationship would ever advance past the 'best friends' stage without a _gentle_ push.

So, Byakuya relented; he'll give the two a chance and a _gentle_ push in the right direction.

XXX

With that being said however, the affluent magnate still found it easier said than done, especially when the _right_ direction happened to be steering her away from Byakuya.

Even now, as he made his plan to 'push', his big brother senses were tingling; deploring him to forget the matter and let the two resolve the matter of hearts by themselves.

Upon their parents' demise, he had been given custody of his sister; charged with both her wellbeing and the existence of the sprawling Kuchiki Empire. For too long now, he had donned on the mantle of Rukia's guardian, elder brother and parent.

The raven-haired noble grew accustomed to the role; managing the workings of the company and simultaneously, playing the role of an attentive elder brother. He had played his part so perfectly well that it was now inevitable for him to feel torn at the prospect of relinquishing his responsibility and care over Rukia.

For twenty years now, he had her to himself.

* * *

><p><em>To suddenly leave her to someone else in his stead?<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

The very idea was unthinkable. Rukia was his only family, the sister more than a decade his junior; more like a daughter than a younger sister.

She was all he had left of a family.

Letting her go, Byakuya bit his lips; was a difficult notion for the rich tycoon to accept.

XXX

Of course, he knew that his little baby sister will grow up one day and become someone's bride/wife and eventually, mother. And he had told himself firmly and repeatedly, that when the time came for his sister to be linked in holy matrimony, Byakuya would lead her down the aisle himself and entrust his sister to another in what had to be the most memorable wedding of the millennium.

With the full _edible_ ten-tier wedding cake, Mediterranean honeymoon and all the best wedding details that Kuchiki money and prestige could buy. He would spare no expenses and gladly foot the bill.

He was a smart man, he knew; he just did not realize that the time for that would arrive so soon, so suddenly. Time was a scoundrel and a thief that walked with utmost silence, in the blink of an eye; the mischievous little elf of a girl had transformed overnight into an elegant young woman.

It felt as though it was just yesterday when he first saw her asleep in the bassinet, barely a day old and already bawling her heart out for his attention. He held her in his arms then, cradling her carefully under the watchful gaze of his parents while she gurgled and yawned.

It was just too soon.

XXX

She grew up far too soon for his liking. It's times like this when Byakuya couldn't help but feel that age was catching up with him.

With a barely audible sigh the proud noble made up his mind to quell his unease and follow through the plan, but that Kurosaki brat better not give him a reason to regret his decision.

He took another tentative sip, already dreading the hours to come. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

Hi there! :D Sorry if this update seems a bit slow, see; I've just finished my mock paper today. Do I hear the word 'finally'? Anyways, pretty much I've flunked my Physics and Biology paper but I've got a week of holiday to spare. I'll deal with them when I've sober from my newly reinstated freedom high.

*Laughs* This chapter is dedicated to _Black Sun Upon An Icy Sky._

" _Hm... him and Byakuya teaming up on some dude who wants to date her? XD"_

I kinda completely changed the whole concept of your idea but hey, this was the original piece of creativity that had me thinking, so all the same; thank you for the inspiration. ;)

Thun-thun-thn-thUN! Bet you didn't see the 'Kaien' curveball coming, did you?

Byakuya is a great *overprotective* big brother/pseudo father figure. And you just have to agree that Yumichika can totally do fashionista extraordinaire and that Ichigo in real life, would look good as Jensen Ackles. XD

Oh yes the irony, Ulquiorra the cardiologist! Is it just me or is the fact that the heartless espada being a healer (sort of, a doctor is some kind of a healer right?) of **hearts** a bit of a laugh.. Yeah, probably just me XD

Enjoy and review, my pretties!


	8. Chapter 7: Niisama Strikes Again

**Chapter 7: Nii-sama Strikes Again**

_~Ichigo~_

* * *

><p>He swore he was going crazy because:<p>

A) Mr.I-am-an-Ice-Block had just told him about the relationship between 'Kaien' and a certain pint-sized midget.

B) They're having a perfectly _civil_ conversation that did not involve death glares.

C) He really wanted to um… well for the lack of a better word, hug his little midget of a best friend. And maybe just a very _platonic_ kiss on the cheeks?

It's the booze. It has to be, right?

* * *

><p>Ichigo stared forlornly at his newly refilled shot of <em>Jack Daniels<em>, courtesy of Hanatarou the bartender.

What he was feeling right now, was a strange sense of calm- the murderous sort of calm that he used to feel before his fist made impact with the schoolyard bully's pudgy face, that is.

The crunch of the glass, broken as it made contact with the hard flooring, sounded so impossibly far away as he struggled to keep his temper in check. Adrenaline was pumping but he forced himself to breathe and to listen, instead of storming off to murder his look-alike.

XXX

He exhaled; his numb lips were soon forming words, his voice hoarse when he uttered them.

"And what is he?" He licked his lips, raising his eyes to meet the gaze of the black-haired noble. "To Rukia, what is he?"

"Do you really want to know?" The aloof man parried.

Ichigo scowled and resisted his inner urge to roll his eyes. Trust the pompous bastard to answer a question with a question. Normally, the doctor would have rebutted with a sarcastic remark or even flip him the bird.

Desperate times however, called for desperate measures. For once in all his interactions with Rukia's brother, the young neurosurgeon chose not to let his anger get the better of him and settled with clenching his teeth harder as he grounded out his reply, word by word.

"Yes, I really want to know. Just give me a straig-"

"He's her fiancé," finished the noble elegantly as he went back to sipping his drink impassively.

XXX

Ichigo swallowed thickly, feeling as though there was a ton of bricks weighing on top of him.

* * *

><p><em>Wow!<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Now, _that_ was blunt. As he sat in a daze, he wasn't exactly sure whether or not he should appreciate the older man's candour on the matter.

Ichigo took a gulp of the alcoholic beverage before him, willing the lump stuck in his trachea to leave as he sat down and began staring numbly at the wooden bar top. The neurosurgeon fisted his knuckles impossibly tight until he was sure that crescent markings were showing on his palm.

Be careful of what you wished for indeed.

It was getting harder and harder to breath with every passing minute.

XXX

Air, he needed it.

* * *

><p><em>Lots of it.<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He tugged ferociously to loosen the tight noose around his neck. The scowl on his lips grew prominent as he yanked the carmine silk away and forcefully stuffed it inside his pants pocket.

"How?" he licked his lips. "How did they-,"his fists clenched and took his a deep breath again before continuing. "When did they- no, how long were they," it tasted bitter as he spat out the last word of the sentence. "**Engaged**?"

"From the moment Rukia was born."

Ichigo stiffened, shocked beyond words. When he finally did regain his senses however, the doctor shot a look of immense hatred towards to the silent man. His rage was so uncontrollable that the glass was slammed back against the wooden bar counter.

Oh, Ichigo knew that his best friend's precious _Nii-sama_ had a twisted sense of duty to the family and their so-called 'greater good of the family and bloodline', but arranging his sister's marriage to a guy when she was barely a day old?

XXX

Ichigo fumed, the fucking bastard just crossed the line.

No one should have the right to dictate his best friend's life, not even Byakuya fucking Kuchiki!

He growled. "You had no right, _Byakuya_."

Onyx eyes turned icy as the clan leader hissed. "Control yourself, _boy_. I did _not_ make the arrangements for this union."

"Well then, who did?" asked the enraged orange-head as he continued glaring.

His opponent in the glaring match answered in a tone underlain with annoyance. "Matters of an arranged marriage can only be conducted with the agreements of the family elders from both noble families."

Ichigo gave a hoarse laugh, lifted the glass and took a gulp. His left eye twitched, and slammed the glass against the wooden bar. When he did speak, his remarks were acrid.

"Fuck your stupid pole-in-the-ass elders. They can't just force someone to get married because they felt like it. This isn't the bloody Stone Age!"

Byakuya mentally pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to correct or flinch from the former's extreme use of profanities.

Yet another reason, Rukia could have done _so_ much better.

XXX

"Precisely," he forced out the words by their syllables as aloof as he could, "which is why the elders have also came to an agreement that the proposal would not be divulged to either of them before their coming-of-age and should both Rukia and Kaien objected to the arrangement, it will be **nullified**."

"So you're saying that Rukia _wants_ to be married to this 'Kaien' dude."

Byakuya could feel a headache brewing. "No." The noble tapped a finger against the fragile wine glass. "Though to be absolutely frank, I cannot say for sure."

Ichigo's eyebrow twitched. "Why don't we start off with what you _are_ sure about?"

Slate grey eyes narrowed. "Are you mocking me, _boy_?"

The doctor glared at him. "I don't know. Tell me, am _I_ mocking you, _Byakuya_?"

XXX

Byakuya set his lips into a grim thin line with enough pressure to make them appear bloodless. God Almighty, please make sure that he had enough patience to get through this trying night without wringing the Neanderthal's thick neck.

He gripped the stem of wine glass harder. "The Shibas hail from a long and distinguished line of nobility. A lax in their management of funds and unfortunate involvement in several unwise investments, however caused the family to suffer financially. By the time Kaien reached his 15th birthday, the family fortune was in such a state of disarray that even the clan elders suffered from the drawback. The elders decided easily enough that the engagement bind with my sister was their only ticket out of the financial woes."

He took yet another tentative sip from the champagne flute. The doctor beside him growled.

"And?" he prompted.

Byakuya intoned expressionlessly, "And that was when Kaien decided to run away from home. It took at least 5 weeks before the Shibas finally discovered that he boarded the train to Osaka, but by then he was already long gone from Japan. In all the seventeen years since he left home, not once has he made any attempts to return to Japan or contact his family members."

Ichigo's eyebrow rose of his own accord. "So he was in such a rush to pack his bags and disappear off to Timbuktu that he _forgot_ to mention that he wants to annul the agreement?"

"On the contrary, Kaien was exceptionally meticulous in arranging his plan," replied the business magnate. "He even left a note. While he does love my sister, his love towards her was the love of a brother for a younger sibling, he _cannot_ and will not marry her," said the pale man as he shot the doctor a meaningful glance.

"It was Rukia who did not wish to annul the bind."

XXX

The world stood still. Ichigo's head was pounding and he was feeling extremely nauseous. Oh God, he felt as though some invisible hand had just squeezed out the life from his body. The glass was slammed against the bar top loudly, drawing the attention from nearby drinking patrons.

The strain in the young man's voice was apparent as he gritted out his next sentence. "Now that's he's back," he paused; harbouring an irrational fear of the answer to his question, "is he going to marry her?"

There, he said it. Threw it out in the open, rendered himself vulnerable to the inevitable truth that was coming his way. He shut his eyes, awaiting the dreaded blow of reality.

"No," came an even baritone voice.

"Excuse me?" He opened his eyes in bewilderment.

"You heard me the first time. I said 'no'," replied the clan leader, trying desperately to put off the forming smirk on his cold lips.

Ichigo glowered. Was Byakuya toying with him?

His eyebrows furrowed. "Then by all means, enlighten me. What is Prince Charming doing here?"

Byakuya met his gaze head on, paying no heed to the crazed look in the other man's eyes. "Kaien is here to _officially_ break off their engagement."

XXX

The noble turned to motion for another glass of sparkling champagne from Hanatarou. "He's here because he wants her blessing and her consent to end this pre-arranged engagement for good."

The young doctor felt as though he was on an emotional rollercoaster with not a moment to spare for reprieve. It felt as though a whole ton of bricks was suddenly lifted from his shoulders. Oh God, he felt light-weighted and somewhat delirious. The happiness and sheer joy of the moment was ridiculously potent and made him dizzy.

Now all he had to do was to find Rukia and t-

XXX

His eyes widened and his euphoric train of thoughts was effectively derailed. Oh boy, Rukia was not going to be a happy camper about this. She clearly loved that guy enough to keep their farce of an arranged marriage alive for seventeen years. All those years of pining after a guy, who only loved her as a sister, he grimaced; if that pint-sized writer had more than sisterly affections for him, the irony that her beloved only came back to her for her permission to break off the engagement -one that she had single-handedly maintained throughout the years- was going to break her heart.

The doctor immediately leaped down the bar stool, his gaze flitting to the same direction his best friend disappeared to just minutes ago.

* * *

><p><em>Straight out, left turn, up the stairs and through the big wooden double doors.<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

There wasn't a single second to lose as Ichigo scrambled to his feet, sprinting away before doubling back as a second thought.

"And Byakuya," he called out across the lounge. The older man looked up unperturbed from his drink. "Thank you," Ichigo murmured and proceeded to execute a perfect 90' bow before he abruptly turned away and bolted to his well-intended destination.

Rukia better be alright. Oh yes, because if she wasn't then a certain Kaien Shiba was going to go home with two black eyes tonight, instead of just one. No, hold that thought, the cowardly bastard was practically _begging_ for a new nasal realignment as well and our furious doctor's fist is on standby.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

While it could be argued that Ichigo Kurosaki was a genius of a sort, being one of the youngest residents in the neurosurgeon department of _Seattle Grace Mercy West_, the not-quite sober doctor did not quite know what to expect when he eventually does stumble upon a certain 'down-in-the-dumps' Kuchiki heiress. For the most part however, he did expect to find his best friend in some sort of depression ditch, wallowing in self denial and pity and he would be tasked with the Herculean quest of rescuing her, not that he minded anyway.

Fortunately -or was it _unfortunately_- Rukia Kuchiki was indomitable by nature, heartaches caused by Shiba ingrates hurt like hell but not suicide-worthy and her actions are therefore, utterly unpredictable even to someone like him.

XXX

"Rukia," he murmured in disbelief as he pushed the doors open, eyes widening as he saw her then and there. The instant he had pushed the heavy doors open, he saw her standing on the bar top that was directly opposite to the entrance, using it as a makeshift stage as she held a microphone close to her lips and started crooning away.

There was no doubt about it. Little Miss Prim and Proper, Kuchiki Heiress Extraordinaire Rukia Kuchiki was drunk and currently dancing barefoot on a bar counter in the middle of a Kuchiki Corporate dinner party.

Personally, Ichigo didn't know whether he should be amused or horrified by the fact.

Her makeup was smudged, cheeks red either from exertion or the aftereffect of alcohol, the glossy red lipstick Rangiku had practically forced onto her lips was gone and her hair had come undone, framing her face once again with slightly curled ends.

Swaying slightly on her feet and moving in sync with the beat of the song, his best friend gave a new spin on the word 'seductive'. Her movements were fluid and sylphlike, giving no indication that she was under the influence of alcohol. She commanded a presence that was contradictory to her petite figure, her charismatic smile, beguiling eyes and sultry crooning serenading a crowd of audience that had gathered around her.

Voices grew louder as the crowd joined in on her sing-along. Her smile turned crafty and her almond-eyes turned a shade darker than their usual cerulean hue.

Left hand clenched around the microphone, her potent and sensual contralto made the lyrics come alive as she poured out her overwhelming emotion from the depth of her soul.

* * *

><p><em>Just cause I said it, don't mean that I mean it...<em>

_Just cause you heard it…_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He was mesmerized by her. There was no other word for it as his feet took on a life of their own and even without any incentives from his brain, were already moving ahead towards her. At the exact moment, he had lost his mind and with it, all resemblance of sanity. All he could do was stare and inch towards her, too enthralled by her performance to even have the forethought to hinge his jaws shut.

Rukia was gorgeous; an _astute_ observation that his not-so sober mind will blame on the 4 –or was it 5? – shots of _Jack Daniels_ for the many sleepless nights that follows after this incident.

* * *

><p><em>Rumor has it, rumor has it...<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He was close now, standing directly below the bar, facing her as she threw herself into the last part of her song. She looked at him. A penetrating gaze that showed recognition, the briefest trace of hurt but farded thick with feigned happiness and Ichigo could see the invisible tears running down on her cheeks as she launched herself into the last verse.

* * *

><p><em>Rumor has it he's the one I'm leaving you for...<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

She winked at the crowd and in a sudden moment of recklessness, threw the microphone away and did a funny little spin. Her concerned friend frowned when she lost her footing along the edge of the makeshift stage, falling headfirst into the mass. Yet she was not perturbed by the notion of falling, instead she had the most content smile on her lips with her arms spread wide as she descended upon her audience.

His nightingale fell into his waiting arms, forming an awkward hug as her arms curled around his neck. Sighing, he readjusted his grip on her tiny waist, shifting her elfin figure within his embrace until her mop of raven-black tresses was tucked into the crook of his shoulder. A playful smile kissed her lips as her bright eyes connected with his.

Her best friend growled menacingly. "You could have killed yourself, midget."

She stuck her tongue out childishly at him before she snuggled against him, eyes shut and her cold nose resting a little too close for comfort against naked skin. "Shut up, berry," she mumbled against his skin.

His scowl deepened.

"Oi, midget!" he grumbled, extending his index finger to poke at her sides when she remained unresponsive. "Don't brush me off when I'm about to have a serious conversation with you," he said but his demands fell on deaf ears as the authoress only stirred to furrow deeper against his chest and swat his annoying hand away.

He sighed, running a hand through his fiery locks in frustration. "Sometimes I really **really** hate you, midget," he gritted out heatedly before tightening his grip on her prone figure to make sure she doesn't knock against anything potentially bruise-inducing on their way out.

With that, the much weary hero of the hour made his way towards the intimidating double doors, ignoring the hollering cries and wolf-whistles from the passionate crowd of audience.

The nasal realignment for 'Kaien' will have to take a backseat, he decided. Heck, everything else will have to take a backseat until he was absolutely sure Rukia was okay.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

"**WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN'T GET MY CAR**?" hollered a thoroughly pissed off Ichigo at the incompetent concierge. The concierge was at least a foot shorter and his waist line a good deal wider than the demanding doctor, his thick moustache a stark contrast against his pallid skin. He sweated profusely and gulped as he stuttered his reply.

"T-There are a l-," he swallowed thickly, "lot of c-cars in the front o-of the parking g-grounds. The um… entrance is blocked."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes into slits. The complete absence of common sense in the hotel employees was un-FREAKING-believable. "Get a **tow truck**," he hissed, careful not to lose his grip on his best friend still held in his arms, bridal-style.

"I-I-It's n-not an acc-accident, sir," replied the harried man, pulling out a handkerchief from the depth of his pocket and began dabbing his rivulets of sweat. "I-It's a c-crime scene. The police are umm… there with the yello-yellow tapes, p-p-processing some kinda c-crime scene," finished the portly man lamely.

* * *

><p><em>Fuck!<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Oh it just doesn't get any better than this does it? Ichigo cursed as he took in the current situation. Murder situation would mean press presence which would mean double trouble for Rukia and him. Rukia hated the limelight, both as a pampered heiress and best-selling authoress; explaining how and why her drunken photos were featured on tomorrow's front page was hardly something that he was looking forward to.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ichigo decided that it would be in everyone's best interest to keep Rukia out of the vicinity of flashing photo-snapping black-boxes and prying eyes.

Turning back to fix his fiercest glare on the working employee, he had on his trademark scowl and noted with a perverse amusement when he saw the man quail under his powerful glower.

XXX

"Get me a hotel room."

The concierge almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to complete the task.

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

His steps were brisk and purposeful as he exited the elevator, extremely thankful that his best friend was as light as a feather and completely dead to the world when she sleeps.

Slotting the keycard in, Ichigo breathed a sigh of utter relief when he saw the green light flash and with a sudden twist of door knob, entered the room. The Kuchiki heiress was trouble reincarnated; being her best friend was a thankless job.

Trudging wearily into the dark room, he only paused to flip on the lights and switch on the air-conditioners. And then he saw the bed and a sense of frustration started gnawing at him again.

Seriously?

A **single** queen-sized bed?

He spared a fleeting glance at his sleeping best friend and scowling darkly, deposited her on the white linen bedding. His arms were growing stiff and let's face it; Rukia's hair was so soft, it was tickling him with every subtle movement on his part.

He scratched the back of his head, wandering what to do next. On one hand, he could just go down to find that concierge and demand another room, but that would mean leaving Rukia alone in the room and he was so knackered, he figured that he could fall asleep somewhere during the trip to the lobby.

* * *

><p><em>Screw it!<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

It was a queen-sized bed after all. Hypothetically speaking, the bed should be big enough to accommodate both of them. With that thought in mind, he shrugged off his black silk jacket, threw it to some unknown corners of the room. Sweating from the heat, he then unbuttoned the rest his cotton dress shirt, repeated his earlier actions and plopped himself on top of the comfortable mattress.

He shrugged. It wouldn't be the first time he slept without wearing a shirt and it wasn't like Rukia was the sort to jump on a poor defenseless guys, _exposed_ from chest-up.

Scooting to the left side of the bed, he laid on his side, facing a cream-coloured wall. Sleep would have came instantly if it hadn't been for the fact that some vertically-challenged midget deemed it appropriate to hug him from behind.

Eyes widening, he involuntarily turned to face the source of contact. Sure enough, her eyes were shut peacefully and her hands were under his underarms and tightly clasp his shoulders from behind. His best friend was clinging onto his naked skin firmly like a little koala bear.

And he so did _not_ find it cute.

Their faces were inches apart from each other and wordlessly, he twisted to his other side and tucked her rebellious lock of hair behind her ear, fighting the urge to kiss her on the forehead as he did. There was something wrong with him tonight. Thinking back about his actions for the night, he felt like hitting himself on the head for pulling all the crazy stunts he had half-dreamed of doing.

Just what was he thinking? Punching the daylights out of 'Kaien' could land him with a charge of assault and have him shipped out to some jail! And oh God, he actually sat through a whole civil conversation with Rukia's _Nii-sama_. None of them died!

He had to pinch himself repeatedly to make sure that he was not dreaming the whole thing up, more so when Rukia started squirming in her sleep. Writhing and tossing, she edged her pliant body closer towards his until their noses were a little than a centimeter apart.

Ichigo shuddered, his breath hitching when he saw her close. Her dark sooty eyelashes were smudged with mascara and her lips were slightly parted. Moist air tinged with the fruity smell of tequila shots invaded his nostril; he found it hard to breath. She was heartbreakingly beautiful in that moment frozen in time, not a bratty know-it-all, sassy little spitfire but a very beautiful and seductive sleeping enchantress.

His manly senses caught sight of her long creamy-looking legs. He swore that human anatomy and human genetics can be a mystery at times. How a midget like his best friend could possess such beautiful runway-model-worthy legs was entirely beyond him. He didn't know why he never seemed to have noticed this before, because he must have been blind not to see Rukia as the beautiful woman that she is.

Her unintentional squirming wasn't helping with the situation at all.

The frustrated man gave her a dark scowl. Oh the things he would be doing to that little midget best friend of his if she were awake. The frequent friction of her petite frame against himself, especially in the nether regions was causing some very unwanted stirrings from the pit of his stomach. He wanted to kiss her on the lips, on the neck, over her jaw; placing little butterfly kisses all over her. The urge to rub and thrust all at once was insatiable.

He was craving for something- something physical and raw but intimate and – wait, he peered down to see a red-faced Rukia; her dress riding up to reveal her long shapely lean legs dangerously closed to his. He froze as he realized that she must have woken up sometime during his musings. Her lips were red and so plump and her eyes veered from their natural shade of cerulean tinted with purple into something darker and smothering. God, why were her eyes so goddamned hypnotizing and alluring when she's drunk.

Then that means…

* * *

><p><em><strong>Oh holy Jesus, OH MY GOD!<strong>_

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

He swallowed thickly; forcing his eyes to blink and to look away discretely. Does that mean he finds his best friend sexy and wants to rip of her clothes right now just to have sex with her?

NO, he rationalized with himself. It couldn't be. He doesn't think of Rukia like that. That's just plain disgusting and for God's sake, this is the scary-Chappy-loving-of–a-fanatic heiress we're talking about. There's no way he could be attracted to the girl who was basically a 'brother' to him; who hits him on a daily basis with numerous jabs (literal and otherwise) for fun at his own expense and ugh, great now he's rambling.

He cursed inwardly before finally throwing his hands up and by doing so, released Rukia's wrists. God no, he's not attracted to Rukia, he decided. No, the reason for his oh-so inappropriate thought just now was because of the heat and urgh, he just needed to get laid. Yeah, that's it; he thought as he fought to keep his emotions at bay and to even his terse heartbeat; no matter how much he doesn't like it, he's still just a guy. And the um… dry spell he was experiencing must be hitting him harder than he thought.

God, that sounded so incredibly like what his father, Dr. Kurosaki Senior would say that it was scary.

"Ichigo?" she slurred breathlessly, and Ichigo really prided himself of the amount of control he had on his libido to not jump on her.

She looked at him in bewilderment and her dainty little nose was evidently scrunched up as she tried to get the bearings of her surroundings. It didn't help that during the process, she only seemed to tighten her grip on him. His breathing became rugged and willed his body temperature to cool down.

Back to the topic, all he needed was to get laid and vent all his manly testosterone and he'll be fine. It's just the manly hormones acting up. Nothing major that going to jeopardize his relationship with Rukia at all.

He took in a deep breath, trying hard not to look as though he had just run through a freaking marathon before hurriedly disentangling himself from her iron-grip hug and made a bee-line for the shower, ignoring an outcry of protest from the inebriated heiress as he did.

He didn't even wince when he felt the icy cold rivulets running down his spine as he turned the knob.

* * *

><p><em>Fuck!<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Sitting comfortably on a plush arm chair in his private room that overlooked the vast Zen garden and koi fish pond, the enigmatic businessman breathed a sigh of contentment as he took a small sip from the piping hot green tea.

"Report," came his baritone voice as he continued to gaze out to the gardens, a wistful gaze in his eyes. Behind him, stood Renji Abarai –a childhood friend of the Kuchiki heiress and current _Shadow_ under the employment of the Kuchiki household – a few patches of dark bruises on his knuckles while he relayed the outcome of the search on the 'crime scene' last night.

"Someone called the cops when they saw a fight," said Renji, scratching his nape awkwardly.

"And?" prompted the tycoon as he gingerly took another sip of tea, seemingly unaffected by the news.

"They found Kaien. Black eye and a bit worse for wear," Renji shrugged apathetically, "but he'll live."

The raven-haired aristocrat gave a sound of contemplation before turning to face Renji. "Did the police find the perpetrators?" he asked in a neutral tone.

The heavily-tattooed subordinate shook his head willfully. Byakuya nodded his satisfaction and the younger man evidently heaved a sigh of relief.

* * *

><p><em>One down, one to go.<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

"And what of my sister and that Kurosaki brat?" inquired the multibillionaire monotonously as he sipped elegantly from his tea cup.

"Well," began the red-haired man as he started fidgeting, "they didn't get caught by the paparazzi and reporters, if that's what you're asking."

Byakuya had his interest piqued. He half-expected to have Renji inform him of some unwarranted photographs of his beloved sister and that orange-haired goon being caught on film and he would have to resort to his numerous _contacts _to dissuade the papers from running any story or posting any picture of the pair. His hold tightened on the fragile cup, he had never miscalculated any reaction on that Kurosaki brat's part before.

* * *

><p><em>How very interesting.<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

"Then how did they make their exit?" asked Byakuya. There was no other way for the pair to make their way home other than through the main doors which were swarmed with journalists and reporters from all the major newspapers in town. The Kurosaki brat, he knew was not smart enough to think of a backdoor under most circumstances.

"Ehehe," chuckled the muscleman mirthlessly, "well you see, boss. They umm… never left the hotel to begin with."

Byakuya's big brother senses tingled. Something was not right.

"Explain," he commanded authoritatively as he steeled his gaze into hardened flints of grey on his unlucky employee. Renji visibly quailed under the withering gaze and gulped hesitatingly.

"Ich-," he started, but quickly changed back to a more impersonal approach upon seeing the severe look on his superior's stern visage. "," he finished quickly as he slurred his reply into a sentence of incomprehensible jargon.

Byakuya quirked an eyebrow and Renji knew it was a sign to reiterate his statement.

And God, he prayed to every single deity he knew to help him get through the ordeal without reduced to an unrecognizable pulp.

* * *

><p><em>Damn damn damn. I hate my life.<em>

* * *

><p>XXX<p>

Renji licked his dry lips. "K-K-Kurosaki c-ch-checked them ah… into a um… hotel room," he mumbled while glancing nervously at his boots, finding the spot a good deal more interesting that his superior's face.

"I see," replied the older man in a small voice as he fought hard to keep his anger restrained and under-controlled. His grip on the little tea cup though, tightened involuntarily. If Renji had noticed anything, the poor man was entirely too 'polite' to comment on his superior's actions.

"A room with double beds I presume?"

"N-N-No," stuttered Renji.

* * *

><p><em>Clash!<em>

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

Yes, this is a 'I'm-not-dead' statement from yours truly. I'm sorry for the late update and if the latest chapter didn't exactly meet up with your expectations. :C Sorry, I've been too busy these days, and stretched too thin with juggling my studies, my on-going profession as a FF authoress and other extracurricular activities. My self-esteem somewhat also being fraught to none with bad grades for English…

I know my updates have been erratic and I have been unable to keep my earlier promise to update monthly. The current situation, ladies and gentleman is sadly likely to continue.

Forgive me!

On a side note, I found the Ichigo in this chapter a bit more OOC than I would have liked. What do you guys think and oh ho ho, Renji makes an appearance and oh yes, you know you love it, Byakuya is dangerous, somewhat ruthless and that makes him well… sexy/badass XD

P.S. Rukia is an _Adele_ fan. XD

*cackles in the background

Anybody feeling sorry for Kaien? o.O


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